
CIIAKI.KS AliKAHAM 11 A U 1. 



A SOLDIER 



IN TWO ARMIES 



BY / 

GEORGE ARTHUR ANDREWS 



^ 



BOSTON 
CHICAGO 



THE LIBRARY OT 
CONGRESS, 

Two Cofits ReceivED 

JUN. 10 1901 

COPVRIGMT ENTRY 

(o,f9of 
COPY a. 



/l^l/l^JL 



Copyright, 1901 
By George Arthur Andrews 



THE memorial PRESS, PLYMOUTH, MASS. 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

I 

A Christian Hero, 7 

II 
Glimpses of Home Life, lO 

III 

Among his Mates, 21 

IV 

"For Christ and the Church," 29 

V 

Camping and Tramping, 37 

VI 

Quiet Walks and Talks, 45 

VII 

The Enlistment, 54 

VIII 

Last Days at Home, 61 

IX 

Rough Experiences, 67 



4 



CONTENTS 



X 

Uncomfortable Quarters, 78 

XI 

Ministering to the Sick, 97 

XII 

His Life for Others, 109 

XIII 

Yet Living, 117 



THIS STORY OF CARL S LIFE IS AFFEC- 
TIONATELY DEDICATED TO HIS PARENTS. 
THEIR TENDER, TRUSTFUL LIVES WERE 
ONCE HIS INSPIRATION; THEIR QUIET 
RESIGNATION TO THE WILL OF THEIR LOV- 
ING FATHER IS NOW AN INSPIRATION TO 
MANY. 



A CHRISTIAN HERO 

In "The '98 Campaign of the Sixth Massachu- 
setts, U. S. v.," by Lieutenant Edwards, among 
other memorials of those who gave their lives in the 
service of their country there appears the follow- 
ing:— 

"Charles Abraham Hart, son of Charles S. Hart, 
Deputy Superintendent of the Massachusetts Re- 
formatory at Concord, was born in Springfield, 
Massachusetts, September 30, 1881, and enlisted in 
Company I, Sixth Massachusetts Infantry, on 
Bunker Hill Day, June 17, 1898. He was a mem- 
ber of the Concord High School at the time of his 
enlistment, and was only sixteen years of age. Join- 
ing the company with his older brother, William A. 
Hart, who was eighteen, he went with his regiment 
to foreign service. 

"Upon arrival at Porto Rico, 'Carl' entered the 
hospital service to care for his brother who had been 
stricken with typhoid fever. His brother's return 
to this country on a hospital ship left the young lad 
alone in that distant land. He was separated for 
weeks from his regiment, working hard and faith- 
fully in the hospital among the sick; a favorite with 



8 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

Major Dow and Lieutenant Gross, with whom he 
worked, because of his unswerving attention to duty. 

"But hardships on the 'Yale,' weary hours with 
the sick, long marches and climatic conditions at last 
told on the superb young body, and thus when he was 
finally attacked by the dread typhoid, he fell an easy 
victim. He passed away on the twenty-sixth of 
September, four days before his seventeenth birth- 
day. His body was brought home with his regi- 
ment on the transport 'Mississippi,' and buried with 
military honors in the far-famed and beautiful 
Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in old Concord. 

"He was a lover of nature, and preeminent in all 
manly sports, a member of the Union Church of Con- 
cord, and president of the Young People's Society of 
Christian Endeavor connected with his church. He 
died beloved and deeply mourned by all with whom 
he was associated." 

In this simple story there is much to arrest the at- 
tention and to arouse the sympathy of even the most 
casual reader — his youth, his separation from his 
brother and his regiment, his "unswerving attention 
to duty," his illness contracted in the service of the 
sick, and his death so far away from home and loved 
ones. 

But the most remarkable part of the biography is 
that contained in the last paragraph. "He was a 
lover of nature, preeminent in all manly sports, a 
member of the church, president of the Christian En- 



A CHRISTIAN HERO 9 

deavor Society" — all this and only a boy! A 
natural boy, a manly boy, and a Christian leader, and 
he died before he was seventeen. 

To all of us who knew Carl, his natural, manly life 
of Christian service has been an inspiration; and in 
the hope that others may catch something of his 
Christian spirit the attempt is here made to narrate 
some of the characteristic incidents of his unassum- 
ing life of devotion to his Master. 

The author gratefully acknowledges his indebted- 
ness to all of Carl's friends who have gladly assisted 
him in his preparation for the work. He regrets 
the necessity for the introduction of any imaginary 
details into his narrative. But since all of Carl's 
associates mentioned in the following pages are liv- 
ing, some change of names and of the setting of in- 
cidents became unavoidable. No incident, how- 
ever, has been introduced which did not have its ex- 
act counterpart in Carl's real life. 



II 

GLIMPSES OF HOME LIFE 

It was a dull November afternoon in the year 
1897, and the Reformatory, which at its best is 
a somewhat dreary place, seemed to me exceptionally 
depressing. Then, too, I had been listening to some 
dismal tale of homesickness from one of the new pris- 
oners, a tale even more dismal than the usual prison- 
er's tale. So, as I stood looking out from the win- 
dows of the chaplain's office, I was feeling lonely 
and sad. 

The door opened without ceremony and a boy 
dressed in football uniform stood before me. He 
had been playing. His clothes were covered with 
mud, his hair was disheveled, and from a slight 
scratch on his face the blood was trickling down his 
cheek unnoticed. 

"I thought the governor was here," he said, with 
a half-apologetic laugh. 

"Who is the governor?" I asked. I knew, for I 
had seen the boy several times and had been told that 
he was the deputy's son. But his very presence 
had already so brig"htened me that I wished to detain 
him. 

"I thought everybody knew the governor," he 

10 



GLIMPSES OF HOME LIFE n 

said. "The governor 's the deputy, and I 'm his 
'ne'er-do-well' ". 

He laughed, not boisterously, but heartily, in a 
manner all his own. 

"The 'ne'er-do-well,' are you? Then I suppose 
you are not the one who stands near the head of his 
class at school, and who writes poetry for the school 
paper?" 

"Well, not exactly. That 's Allie. He 's older 
than I. I 'm the one who stands near the foot of the 
class and who plays football." 

"Possibly the football is as good for you as the 
poetry would be," I remarked. "You 're the one 
they call Carl, then. I 've heard of you, too. You 
are larger and stronger than Allie, are n't you?" 

"Just a little." He looked at me quizzically from 
beneath his overhanging hair and a half smile played 
upon his full lips. "How much do you think I 
weigh?" 

"In that padded suit you look as though you weigh 
about two hundred; but I should say for a guess 
that you tip about a hundred and ■^ixty." 

"A hundred and seventy when I 'm in fighting 
trim," he said. 

"Well, can you lick 'the governor' yet?" I asked, 
laughing. 

"Not quite yet. He '11 have to eat a few more 
puddings before he can do that." The question was 
answered by Deputy Hart himself, who had slipped 
in through the door which Carl had left open. 



12 



A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 



"Well, you 're a sight !" the deputy continued, eye- 
ing Carl from head to foot. "Why do n't you go 
and wash up?" 

"I wanted to find you first and tell you about the 
game." 

"Oh, 3^ou beat them, then, did you?" 

"Yes, sir, sixteen to four. And you said this noon 
that they 'd wipe the ground with us." 

"You look as though they 'd wiped the ground 
with you, anyway. Come, skip off and fix up." 

When Carl had left the room his father turned to 
me. I had never before seen such an expression 
of tender love on his strong, rugged face. The 
deputy superintendent is the prisoners' disciplina- 
rian, and while about his work Mr. Hart's face is 
more generally expressive of stern justice than of 
tenderness. He was not the disciplinarian now, 
but the father. 

"There 's a boy I can't understand," he said. "I 
have seven boys and one girl. Most of their dis- 
positions I think I can account for, but this one 
sticks me. If I were half as good as that boy, if I 
always did my duty as unquestioningly and fearless- 
ly as he does his, then this Reformatory would have 
a deputy superintendent worthy of his office." 

And then, as though half ashamed of himself, he 
suddenly turned away and left the room. 

The deputy's apartments occupy one side of the 
front wing of the Reformatory, and it is only a step 



GLIMPSES OF HOME LIFE 



13 



from the door of the chaplain's office to the door 
which admits one to his home, — a step from the 
dreary, chilHng atmosphere of crime into the bright 
and sunny atmosphere of love. 

The instant the deputy opened the door of his 
home he was surrounded by four boys, and almost 
deafened by their united cries, "Sixteen to four!" 
"Sixteen to four!" "Sixteen to four!" 

"What 's the matter with you youngsters, any- 
way ?" Mr. Hart demanded, pretending to look stern. 

"You got left." 

"The Concords beat." 

"You told Carl that the Lexingtons would wipe 
the ground with them." 

"The Lexingtons got swiped." 

"Well, suppose the Lexingtons did get swiped, and 
suppose I did get left; it is n't the first time, is it? 
Make way there and let me come in." 

"Carl played a dandy game," volunteered Jim, the 
ten-year-old. 

"I should be ashamed of him if he did n't," his 
father replied, brusquely. 

"If he had n't played, the Lexingtons would have 
beat, dead sure. He made all the touch-downs him- 
self," remarked Clarence, aged twelve. 

"That 's all right. That 's what he ought to do. 
He played as well as he could, I suppose." 

"Pa, the Lexington men said that Carl played a 
gentlemanly game." It was Gardner, fourteen 
years of age, who made this remark. 



14 



A SOLDIER LY TWO ARMIES 



"That 's as it should be. too. We expect Carl to 
play like a gentleman, do n't we ?" 

"Yes, sir," from Jim. 

"Most boys do n't do it, though," said Gardner. 

"They 'd ought to, anyway," Clarence declared. 

"Pa, one of the Lexington fellows struck Carl in 
the face," said Sumner, who was only eight. 

"What did Carl do? Strike back?" 

"No, he did n't. He held the boy by the arm for a 
minute and said, T would n't do that again, if I were 
you.' " Allie, the oldest boy, made this reply as he 
sauntered out of the "den" and joined the group; 
and there was something in his tone which suggested 
that if he had been in Carl's place he might have 
acted differently. 

"If I had been him, I 'd have swiped him one over 
the eye," declared Jim, drawing himself up to his 
fullest height. 

"Do you think he 'd ought to have hit back, pa?" 
asked Clarence, doubtfully. 

"I 'm afraid I might have done it," his father re- 
plied; "but Carl was playing like a gentleman, you 
know. Now hustle and get ready for supper. 
Where 's your mother?" 

"She 's in the sewing-room mending Carl's foot- 
ball pants." 

"He just threw them down-stairs to her." 

It very frequently thus took two of the Hart boys 
to answer one question. 



GLIMPSES OF HOME LIFE i^ 

If Mrs. Hart ever had an anxious thought for any 
of her boys they did not guess it. Like her hus- 
band, she treated them all as her companions whom 
she expected to be true to themselves and to their 
fellows. But while before them she was always 
brave and strong, beneath her outward serenity there 
beat a mother's anxious heart. 

"Do you think Carlie ought to play football ?" she 
asked, as her husband entered the room. 

"Why not ? Because his playing makes you lots 
of work ?" He smiled at her and she looked at him 
from over the dirty, torn pantaloons, smiling in 
return. 

"You know it is n't that," she said. "They 're al- 
ways tearing their clothes anyway, no matter what 
they do. But football is such a rough game! 

Carlie's face was all covered with blood when he 
came in to-night." 

"Yes, I saw him. But it was only a scratch. It 
does boys good to get knocked 'round a bit. I 
do n't think it will hurt him at all to play football, 
but I think it will help to make a man of him." 

"He does n't need anything to make him a man," 
she said, softly; but she added, quickly, "Yes, he 
does, too. He 's only a boy — a great, good, over- 
grown boy. But I can't bear to think of his getting 
hurt." 

"He won't get hurt. He can hold his own with 
any of them. And, more than that, he can always 



l6 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

play the game, as I hear that he played it this after- 
noon, like a gentleman. Hullo, there 's the little 
shaver. Come here, sonny." 

Four-year-old Bertie, who had been lying on the 
floor at his mother's feet, jumped up quickly and ran 
to his father. 

"Are you going to play football when you are a 
big boy?" Mr, Hart asked, as he took him on his 
knee. 

"Yes, when I 'm big like Carlie." 

"And will you always play like a gentleman, too?" 

"I think so," he said, doubtfully, "but I 'm not 
sure. Anyway, I '11 try if Carlie wants me to." 

Just then the supper-bell rang, and with much 
laughter and playful banter the family trooped down- 
stairs to the dining-room, Bertie riding triumphantly 
on his father's shoulder. 

Two chairs were vacant. But soon after the 
simple blessing had been asked, Clara, the one girl 
in the family, came in with her music-roll. She had 
been detained at her lesson. A few minutes after- 
wards, Carl came down-stairs and quietly took his 
seat by his father. 

"For the hero of the day," Mr. Hart said, play- 
fully, as he passed him his plate. 

Carl flushed deeply but made no reply. 

Later in the evening, after the younger children 
had gone to bed, Carl went into the parlor where his 
mother was idly playing on the piano. 



GLIMPSES OF HOME LIFE 17 

"What is it, Carlie?" she asked, still letting her 
fingers glide over the keys. 

"Play something nice, mamma; I 'm tired." 

"Something nice" with Carl meant somethings 
classical, so she stopped her desultory fingering of 
the keys and played one of their favorites from 
Mendelssohn, while he sat quietly in the big chair by 
her side. 

"Is that enough?" she asked, as she finished the 
score. 

"Yes, I guess so," he replied, wearily. 

"What is the matter, Carlie ?" turning to him and 
putting her arm around his neck. 

For a moment he was silent. Then he said quick- 
ly and almost with a sob: "Mamma, when I was 
dressing, I heard the boys tell father about my not 
striking back to-day. Do you suppose he thought 
that I was a coward?" 

"No, Carlie," she replied, stroking his thick, shag- 
gy hair. "He and 1 both thought that you showed 
yourself a gentleman and a Christian." 

He sat in deep thought for a few minutes more. 
Then his face brightened into a happy smile. 

"It 's all right, then," he said, rising and shaking 
himself, as though he would throw off all gloomy 
thoughts. "Now I must get back to that algebra." 

"Does the algebra come hard to-night ?" 

"Yes, awfully hard," shrugging his shoulders and 
making a grimace. "Allie got his done an hour 
ago." 

Chr— 2 



1 8 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

"Why do n't you ask him to help you?" 

"Oh, he 's writing something for the paper, and, 
besides, I want to dig it out myself." 

And he went back to the "den." 

The "den" deserves description. It was a large, 
back corner room nearly filled with desks and tables. 
Between the two west windows stood a large table 
continually littered with prisoners' reports and other 
papers pertaining to prison discipline. This was 
Deputy Hart's private study. In the northwest 
corner of the room was a desk, for the most part 
neatly kept, except for an occasional scribbled verse 
of poetry on the blotting-paper. This was Allie's 
private study. In the southwest corner a similar 
desk, not always so neatly kept, but often cluttered 
with bits of string, strips of linen, a bottle of arnica, 
a baseball glove and other athletic paraphernalia, 
constituted the private study of Carl; while on the 
other side of the room three other desks, littered with 
all sorts of boyish furniture, were respectively the 
especial property of the younger boys, Gardner, 
Clarence and Jim. Place a chair before each of 
these desks; arrange a couch and one or two other 
chairs carelessly about the otherwise unoccupied 
space in the room, and you have the "den." Fill 
each chair with its proper occupant and you have the 
"den" in o])eration. 

The population of the "den" always diminished as 
evening progressed. One by one the younger boys 



GLIMPSES OF HOME LIFE 19 

would slip out to seek their beds, until there would 
be left at last only Mr. Hart and the two older ones, 
with Mrs. Hart, it may be, sitting by, quietly read- 
ing or mending some boy's torn clothing. Then all 
work would be put aside, and the four would have 
a game of whist before retiring. 

"It 's time for the whist," Mr. Hart said one even- 
ing a few weeks after the football game. "Come 
on." 

He pushed aside the papers on his desk and took 
a pack of cards from his drawer. Allie closed his 
book with a snap and took his place opposite his 
father. Mrs. Hart laid down her sewing and 
moved her chair nearer the table. But Carl did not 
move. 

Mr. Hart shuffled the cards. "Come, Carl, we 're 
waiting," he said. 

"I do n't think I '11 play whist any more," Carl said, 
quietly, without looking around from his desk. 

"Not play whist, Carlie?" his mother asked in sur- 
prise. "Why not?" 

"I 've been thinking that perhaps it is n't right for 
me to play," he replied. 

"Are you setting yourself up to judge your father 
and mother, young man?" Mr. Hart asked, some- 
what sternly. 

"No; I do n't say it is n't all right for you to play. 
But you know I am president of the Christian En- 
deavor Society, and some of the members do n't think 
it is right to play. So I guess I 'd better not." 



20 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

"Pish!" exclaimed Allie, "what do you care 
what they think ?" 

Carl flushed but did not reply. His father looked 
at him thoughtfully for a minute, then picked up the 
cards and threw them back into the drawer. 

"Carl," he said, "I want you to understand that I 
think you have done a manly thing to-night, and I 
honor you for your courage. Come now, let 's go 
to bed." 

But Carl's face was heavy and perplexed. 

"You did just right, Carlie," his mother said in a 
whisper as she bade him good-night. "I am glad 
that you were strong enough to do it." 

Slowly then his face brightened into its accus- 
tomed happy smile. 

"I am glad you think so," he said, simply. "I 
was afraid I had displeased you." 

Then, just as though nothing at all had happened, 
he turned back to his desk to finish liis Latin before 
he went to bed. 

There was no more evening- whist in the "den." 



Ill 

AMONG HIS MATES 

From the very first of his school life Carl was a 
favorite with his teachers, not because he was an 
exceptionally bright boy nor an exceptionally good 
boy, for he was neither, but because he was excep- 
tionally cheerful and manly. In the lower schools 
he was called "Little Sunshine," and though in the 
high school the name necessarily had slipped from 
his stalwart five feet nine, he still remained his teach- 
ers' sunshine. 

I have said that he was not an exceptionally bright 
boy. His lessons did not come to him without stren- 
uous effort, but they were rarely unprepared. Even 
his fondness for athletic sports did not detract from 
his dogged determination to push ahead in his school 
work. 

I remember going down on the train with him one 
]\Ionday morning as he was on his way to school. 
He was puzzling his head over his ever-perplexing 
algebra. I offered to assist him. The lesson was 
a peculiarly difiicult one in factoring. We worked 
together for the few minutes occupied in travelling 
the two miles from the Reformatory to Concord, and 
by the time the train began to slow up I had indicated 



22 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

on a slip of paper the method of solving perhaps a 
dozen of his problems. 

He thanked me heartily for my help, but I no- 
ticed that as he arose to leave the train he was quiet- 
ly crumpling my work in his hand. 

"What are you doing with that paper?" I asked, 
in surprise. "Are n't you going to keep it, so as to 
remember how to do them''" 

"No; I guess not," he replied. "I think I 'd rath- 
er forget your work, and dig them out myself." 

Just for a moment I was nettled, for I had really 
tried to help him, and it seemed that my work was 
going for nothing. 

"That 's the way to get the most out of the lesson, 
is n't it?" he asked, doubtfully. "I 'm so slow, you 
know, that I have to make every lesson count for all 
it 's worth." 

It was the simple declaration of a boy who in some 
way had learned his limitations, and had already be- 
gun the stern fight to overcome them. I looked at 
him with new interest and with an awakening ad- 
miration for his sturdy manhood. 

"Where did you get that idea?" I asked. "Who 
told you that?" 

"Nobody told me. I worked the thing out my- 
self. Isn't it right?" 

His face wore its heavy, perplexed look as though 
after all he were not quite sure of himself. 

"Yes, I think it 's right," I said. 



AMONG HIS MATES 23 

As the train pulled out from the station I turned 
to watch him from the window. He had joined his 
mates and was laughing with them at some boyish 
prank of some one of their number. But as he 
laughed he quietly let a piece of crumpled paper fall 
from his hand to the ground. 

It is true, too, that Carl was not an exceptionally 
good boy in school. No one was more fond of 
healthy fun than he, and very often he was repri- 
manded for breaking some of the school rules. But 
he was conscious of his fun-loving nature and used 
to devise methods that he thought would help him 
behave. 

He had been in the high school but a few days 
when one recess he presented himself at the desk of 
his teacher. 

"May I sit in a seat nearer front?" he asked. 
"Why, Carl, what for?" she returned, in surprise. 
**You are so big I am afraid you would n't be com- 
fortable down there." 

"I guess I should be comfortable enough," he said, 

smiling. "I 've no business to be so big, anyway." 

"But why do you want to sit farther front?" the 

teacher insisted. "I thought you were having a 

good time w^here you are." 

"That 's just it. I 'm afraid I am having too 
good a time. I want to come down front where I 
can behave better." 

"But I have n't found any especial fault with your 
behavior, have I, Carl?" 



24 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

"No; you haven't. But I've found fault with 
myself, and I want to help myself do better." 

"Very well," she said, smiling up into the big, boy- 
ish face leaning over her desk. "You may change 
if you wish." 

But even the front seat could not entirely cure 
him of whispering, and it was not long after the 
change when he was kept after school in punishment 
for this misdemeanor. 

Not once during the time he was required to re- 
main in his seat did he lift his eyes from his book; 
and, when permitted to go, he left the room without 
looking at his teacher or saying his usual good-night. 
The next morning he passed her desk on his way to 
his seat without his customary cheery greeting, and 
the greeting was omitted the next day also, and the 
next. 

The teacher was hurt at this negligence, so un- 
usual in him, and she missed the real help of his 
cheerfulness. 

"W'liat is the matter with Carl ?" she asked of Allie 
who tliat year had a seat in the same room. "He 
has n't spoken to me for three da vs." 

"I guess he 's ashamed of himself," Allie replied. 

And sure enough, that was the matter. That 
afternoon the teacher called to him as he passed her 
desk and tactfully drew from him his confession. 

"I did not think I was worthy to speak to you," 
he said, with downcast eves. 



AMONG HIS MATES 25 

Afterward, so long as Carl remained in school, 
morning and evening words of cheer and encourage- 
ment between teacher and pupil were never omitted. 
Among his schoolmates Carl had few personal 
friends and no intimate ones. He was too large and 
strong and manly to mingle with boys of his own age, 
and too natural and boyish to associate with those of 
his size. Yet by all his mates he was deeply re- 
spected, and by many of the smaller ones he was 
gratefully admired for his courageous championship 
of their rights. 

JNIany times before Carl enlisted in the war against 
Spain in behalf of the oppressed Cubans, he enlisted 
in private wars in behalf of oppressed companions. 

One day, as he was riding on his bicycle some dis- 
tance from home a small boy ran out from a little cot- 
tage, closely pursued by a much older and stronger 
boy. The larger one had overtaken the smaller and 
was beating him cruelly, when Carl leaped from his 
bicycle and seized him by the shoulder. 

"What do you mean by licking a little fellow like 
that?" he demanded, with flashing eyes and trembling 
lips, for his anger was thoroughly aroused. 

"None of your business," the boy replied, with an 
oath. "I '11 lick him all I want to. Leave me 
alone." 

"No you won't lick him, either. Let go of him. 
Let him go, I say." 

But in his effort to release the lad Carl forgot to 



26 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

guard himself, and the bully, suddenly drawing- back, 
struck him square in the eye. 

The small boy was forgotten, and the fight was 
on. It lasted for about fifteen minutes. Then 
Carl had his man. 

"Promise me you '11 let the kid alone, or I won't 
let you up," he said, as he sat panting on his antago- 
nist's stomach. 

"Promise nothing," the boy retorted, with an ef- 
fort to wrench himself free. 

It was useless. Carl held both arms pinioned, 
and each struggle only increased the pressure of 
his relentless grip. The vanquished boy began to 
swear again. 

"Do n't do that," Carl said. "That won't do you 
any good. Promise to let the kid alone; that's 
what you 've got to do." 

Another useless struggle, a still greater increase of 
pressure on the pinioned arms, more swearing, and 
the whole operation repeated once again. Then 
came surrender. 

"I '11 promise," the boy said, weakly. 

"Then get up/' Carl commanded; and he stood 
with folded arms while the fellow picked himself up 
and slouched away. 

Carl carried a black eye home with him that night. 

"What have you been up to?" his father said when 
he saw it. 

"Fighting," he replied, shortly. 



AMONG HIS MATES 27 

"Did you have good reasons?" his father asked. 

"Yes, sir, I think so," the boy replied. 

"Well, sometime when I 'm not so busy you may 
tell me about it," and his father turned away to his 
work. 

By so trusting his boys Mr. Hart had succeeded in 
making them trustworthy. 

If anything could anger Carl more quickly than 
the abuse of the weak by the strong, it was any ap- 
proach to vulgarity on the part of his companions. 

After he had enlisted, and only a few days before 
he left home, while walking with some young ladies 
of his acquaintance, they were accosted vulgarly by 
a street loafer. Carl let his companions pass on 
and stopped to speak to the man. 

"Do n't you ever say such a thing as that to any 
lady again," he demanded. 

"Who are you to teach me manners?" the fellow 
asked, with a sneer. "I '11 say what I d — n please 
to anybody, for all you." 

"You will, will you? Then take that — and that 
— and that." 

The blows came so thick and fast that self-protec- 
tion was impossible, and the sneak took to his heels. 
Carl rejoined his companions as calmly as though 
nothing had happened. 

The next day he met the fellow on the street. 

"Look here, ," he said, calling him by name, 

"I 'm going off pretty soon and I do n't want you to 



28 '4 SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

have any ill-will over that affair of yesterday. It 
was a dirty thing you said, but I do n't have any hard 
feelings against you, and I do n't want you to have 
any against me. Shake hands." 

And so they clasped hands, the one with averted 
face and downcast eyes, the other with features trans- 
figured by Christian love and pity. 



IV 
"FOR CHRIST AND THE CHURCH" 

"Carl in his early boyhood was the biggest liar in 
the family," Mr. Hart remarked to me one day after 
the boys had gone to war. 

"Yes," he continued, in answer to my look of in- 
credulity; "up to the time that he was six years old 
he lied oftener than he told the truth. He lied 
without cause and without purpose. We tried 
everything to break him of the habit, moral suasion 
and corporal punishment, but nothing seemed of any 
avail. And then all of a sudden he stopped the 
habit himself. 

"I well remember the last lie he ever told me. He 
had been out playing with Allie and came in to din- 
ner with a great rent in the seat of his trousers. 

" 'You look well,' I said, jokingly. 'How did you 
do that ?' 

" 'Climbing over the fence,' he replied, looking me 
straight in the eye. 

"I made no more talk about it, and should have 
forgotten it altogether, had not Allie come in a few 
moments later, laughing. 

" 'Oh, you 'd ought 'a' seen Carl hung up in a tree,' 
he said. Carl gave him a nudge but Allie paid no 
attention. 

29 



30 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

" 'We were climbing a tree and Carl slipped and 
caught the seat of his pants on a broken limb, and 
all he could do was to hang there and squeal until I 
helped him down.' And Allie went off into another 
peal of laughter. 

"But Carl was sober. 

" 'What in the world do you mean,' I asked him, 
'by telling me that yarn about the fence? Why 
can't you tell me the truth ?' 

"He hung his head and said nothing, and after 
dinner I took him out and thrashed him soundly." 

"Had you ever forbidden him to climb trees?" I 
asked. 

"Never. I encouraged it. I believe it 's good 
for boys to incur a little healthy danger once in a 
while. No, there was no earthly reason for the lie. 
He just told the first untruth that popped into his 
head, and it never occurred to him to tell the truth 
at all." 

"And that was the last one, you say?" 

"Yes. After that he became the very soul of 
truth. We used to watch him for a while, of course, 
and I investigated some of his stories, but I always 
found they were absolutely true. And I soon ceased 
doubting him. When he was seven, I would have 
taken his word against the world." 

"How do you account for the change?" I queried, 
thoughtfully. 

"I do n't account for it." he replied. "Conversion 



"FOR CHRIST AND THE CHURCH" 31 

is one of the mysteries I have given up trying to 
solve." 

"You beHeve he was converted then, do you?" 

"Yes, just as surely as any one was ever con- 
verted." 

I think he was right. We cannot enter into the 
inner experience through which the boy passed at 
that early age. But we are sure that from that day 
to the end of his life, as he increased in wisdom and 
in stature, like the Saviour whom he had taken as 
his Master, he also increased "in favor with God and 
man." 

The summer before he was fifteen years old Carl 
was baptized and admitted into the church. 

It was a peaceful Sabbath afternoon in July when, 
with his pastor, he went down into the little lake near 
his home, to receive the solemn rite that meant so 
much to him. But as he returned to the shore a 
greater peace than the peace of the holy Sabbath 
shone upon his face. He had manfully made the 
public profession of his faith in Christ which he had 
felt it his duty to make, and "the peace of God 
which passeth all understanding" had entered his 
heart and filled it. 

The scene was an unusually impressive one. The 
Sabbath peace, the summer stillness intensified by 
the hum of myriads of insects and the twittering of 
countless birds, the quiet water reflecting from its 
bosom the deep blue sky, — that was the background 



32 ^ SOLDIER IX TWO ARMIES 

of the picture. The central figure was the tall, 
manly youth, with the light of a new joy shining in 
his face and with the determination of a new purpose 
manifested in his step, facing that day the new duties 
and responsibilities of a professed follower of Jesus 
Christ. 

The first to greet him as he reached the shore was 
his father. The strong man's eyes were wet with 
tears, and he took his big boy tenderly in his arms 
and kissed him. 

Carl's Christian life was as much a part of him- 
self as was his athletic life. He could no more be 
affected in the service of his Master than he could be 
affected on the football field. With him. to accept 
Christ's leadership meant to serve Christ with all the 
natural activity of his vigorous nature. 

It was not, therefore, surprising that he very early 
became an active member of the Young People's So- 
ciety of Christian Endeavor connected with his 
church. Nor was it surprising that his associates 
should soon recognize the value of his Christian 
work, and make him president of their society. 

This honor carried with it many public duties sel- 
dom undertaken by boys of fifteen. For example, 
at a public meeting of the Society held in the church, 
he sat with the pastor in the pulpit and was asked to 
offer prayer. Carl hesitated not a moment. Long 
before he had copied into his note-book, as one of 
his lite mottoes, the v/ords of Dr. Martincau. "Xo 



"FOR CHRIST AND THE CHURCH" 33 

man can be either a great man or a Christian who 
cannot do what he ought to do, when he ought, and 
whether he wants to do it or not." He was a Chris- 
tian, and to make the pubHc prayer was then and 
there his duty. So, in that crowded church, before 
so many older Christians, he prayed naturally and 
boyishly that God would bless the Christian En- 
deavor Society and make all its members active in 
the service of their Master. 

Carl's testimonies at the meetings of the society 
were never deeply studied homilies on the subject 
of the meeting. They were rather the natural ex- 
pression of his own experiences and feelings. 

"When I was playing football the other day," he 
said one night in a consecration meeting which he 
was leading, "I 'caught on' to the signals of the other 
team. I knew they were going to try to break 
through our left end, before they started, and the 
temptation came to me to give the fellows the tip. 
Then I thought that that would be taking an unfair 
advantage of what I had learned by accident. I 
do n't believe Jesus would have played football that 
way. and I am glad he kept me from yielding to the 
temptation. I find that when I stop to think what 
Jesus would do, I usually come out all right." 

At another time, the subject of the meeting, led by 
one of the older members, was "Temperance." The 
leader urged the need of temperance in words as well 
as in deeds, declaring that the temptation of most 

Cbr— 3 



34 '-i SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

Christian Endeavorers was not so much that of 
drinking intemperately as of speaking intemperately. 
This was Carl's testimony : 

"I am glad that our leader has spoken about in- 
temperate speaking. I think the hardest part of 
the Christian life is to rule one's tongue. It was 
only yesterday that I felt like calling a fellow a liar, 
and I should have done it, too, if I had n't thought 
just in time of the proverb, 'He that ruleth his spirit 
is better than he that taketh a city.' I have to keep 
fighting my quick temper all the time, but it pays." 

In the prayer-meetings of the church, too, Carl 
almost always bore his testimony, and his earnest, 
simple words have many times inspired older Chris- 
tians to a more noble Christian life. 

On one occasion a church member, unconsciously 
to himself, had let a little of the bitterness of criti- 
cism creep into his testimony. His words had 
seemed to others more harsh than he had intended, 
and wlien he took his seat a hush settled over the 
gathering, a hush which meant death to the spiritual 
profit of the meeting. \\'hile the pastor was trying 
to think of some words that might save the meeting, 
Carl arose quietly to his feet. 

"I did n't think we came to meeting to find fault," 
he said, simply. "It seems to me the prayer-meeting 
ought to be for us to get good in. I am sure I come 
because I need strength to fight the battles of life, 
and it does me good to hear the prayers and sing the 



"FOR CHRIST AND THE CHURCH" 35 

hymns. I want you all to pray for me that I may 
always stand firm to my principles and never go back 
on my chosen Master." 

The meeting was saved. 

It became customary in the West Concord Chris- 
tian Endeavor Society for those who wished to go to 
the vestry a few minutes before the service and to 
kneel together in one of the primary rooms to ask 
God's blessing upon the meeting. Sometimes there 
would be eight or ten present at these early meetings, 
and at other times only two or three. Once only 
one was there. 

The pastor was to lead the meeting that evening 
and, though he had planned to go in time for the 
early prayer, he was detained. It lacked only a few 
moments of the hour for opening the regular service 
when he stepped into the primary room. Some one 
was praying aloud and he stopped in the doorway 
with bowed head until the prayer should close. 

"Dear Father, bless him who shall lead the meet- 
ing to-night," the petition ran, "and may he say the 
right words to us. May we all do our part to make 
it a good meeting and may we serve thee faithfully 
so long as we shall live. For Christ's sake, amen." 

The minister lifted his head and looked about him. 
Only one person was in the room. The president 
of the society had been praying alone. 

Not by any means content with his public service 
in the prayer-room, Carl in all his daily activity 



36 



A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 



never forgot that he was president of the Christian 
Endeavor Society. He felt that in a measure he 
was responsible for the Christian development of the 
members of his society, and he was continually devis- 
ing plans to bring them to a higher plane of Christian 
living. 

There lies before me as I write a copy of his Easter 
greeting to the members of the society, the last Eas- 
ter greeting of his short, full life. It is a card folder, 
bearing on the front cover the motto "For Christ and 
the Church,'' and on the back cover the inscription, 
"Easter Greeting from President Charles A. Hart, 
West Concord Union Church Christian Endeavor." 

Inside the folder there is this "Easter Prayer,'' — 
"That I may know Him. and the Power of His 
Resurrection." Phil. 3 : 10. Then there follows 
this hvmn from Frances Ridley Havergal, 

"Oh. let me know 
The power of thy resurrection ; 

Oh. let me show 
Thy Risen life in calm and clear reflection; 

Oh, let me soar 
Where thou, my Saviour Christ, art gone before, 

In mind and heart 
Let me dwell always, only, where thou art. 

Oh, let me give 
Out of the gifts thou freely givest; 

Oh, let me live 
With life abundantly because thou livest; 

Oh, make me shine 
In darkest places, for thy light is mine : 

Oh, let me sing 
For very joy because thou art my King." 

That was his daily prayer, the prayer which in- 
spired every action of his life, the prayer which now 
is answered in all its fulness. 



V 
CAMPING AND TRAMPING 

Diirin.^ the long summer vacations the Hart boys 
lived for the most part out-of-doors. There were 
all sorts of open-air games for the younger boys at 
home; and for the older ones there were bicycling 
and fishing- and hunting and camping-out expedi- 
tions with other boys in the neighborhood. 

Sometimes the pastor of the West Concord church, 
who had learned how to win boys, would invite some 
of the younger members of his church and congrega- 
tion to a week's outing, perhaps in the western part 
of Massachusetts, or it might be among the moun- 
tains of New Hampshire. Usually these trips 
would be made a-wheel, each wheelman carrying his 
part of the camp outfit strapped to his handle-bars. 
Allie and Carl were always included in these com- 
panies. 

The second day out on the '97 trip dawned dark 
and threatening. 

"Shall we strike camp and go on?" the minister 
asked, as they ate their canned beef and drank their 
coffee, "or shall we make all snug here and wait for 
a more pleasant day?" 

"I say let 's stay here," replied Frank Jones, quick- 
ly. 'T think we are going to have a hard rain." 

Z7 



38 A SOLDIER LY TWO ARMIES 

"Does your rheumatism bother you?" Carl asked, 
with a twinkle in his eye. 

"You do n't believe I 've got the rheumatism, do 
you?" Frank retorted. "I have, — right there," and 
he put both hands on his bicycle muscles. 

Everybody laughed. They were all afflicted with 
that kind of rheumatism the second morning of the 
trip out. 

The minister repeated his question, "Shall we 
stay here, then, or go on?" 

"Oh, let 's go on," Allie said. "We do n't want 
to mope here all day. I do n't believe it 's going to 
rain. My rheumatism is all right." 

"Yes," added Carl, "let 's go. We want to push 
through what we've laid out to do this trip; and 
there may come a day before the week 's through 
when we *11 have to lie over." 

"I think you 're right," the minister said. "So 
long as it does n't actually rain, I think we 'd better 
push on. Come on, pack up." 

The rain kept ofif until after the noon rest. In- 
deed, the party were within eight miles of the place 
planned for the next night's camp when the first 
warning drops began to fall. 

"Ain't you glad now you took my advice?" Allie 
was saying, when a big drop plumped him on the 
nose. 

"Let 's pull up here,'' suggested Frank. 

"Pish !" sneered Carl, "what 's the use of giving up 



CAMPING AND TRAMPING 39 

for one drop of rain ? We '11 be at camp in less than 
an hour, anyway." 

He bent over his handle-bars and began to 
"scorch" ahead, the rest following his example. 

"Come on," he shouted, as he went out of sight 
around a curve in the road. "Good going ahead." 

The gentle whirr of his wheels as he pedaled rap- 
idly forward was mingled with the increasing patter 
of the rain on the leaves above his head; and in the 
exhilaration of his strong young life he gave a boyish 
whoop of delight. Hardly had the echo of his voice 
died out in the woods around him when there 
sounded a report like that of a pistol, — and his front 
tire lay flat and useless. 

"What's the matter?" the minister asked, as he 
overtook him. 

Carl looked up from his examination of the dis- 
abled wheel and pointed silently to a crack in the 
tire nearly two inches long. 

"Had it blown up too hard and it busted," he said. 
"Looks as though I should have to walk." 

"It does look that way, that 's a fact," the minister 
replied, laughing at Carl's rueful face. "Well, we '11 
send the rest ahead and I '11 stay behind and jog 
along with you." 

"No, you won't, either," Carl declared, emphatic- 
ally. "You go on with the rest. It 's raining 
harder every minute, and there 's no need for both of 
us to get drenched." 



40 ^^ SOLDIER L\ TWO ARMIES 

So after a little parley the rest of the party pushed 
on and left him to walk alone. 

"Now, do n't you wish you had voted to stay where 
we were this morning?" sang out his companions 
as Carl, drenched to the skin, joined the party around 
the camp-fire nearly two hours later. 

"No, sir, not a bit of it," he declared. "\\'e are 
where we planned to be to-night and a little wetting 
doesn't count. Where's your drinking-water?" 

"Frank kicked over the pail and spilled it," Allie 
said. 

"Why don't he get some more, then?" 

"Rheumatism bothers him." Allie said, laughing. 

"No, it ain't the rheumatism, either," Frank de- 
clared. "I 'd get the water if it was my turn, but it 
ain't." 

"Whose turn is it, then?" demanded another of 
the party. 

"It 's yours, and you know it." 

"Not by a long shot. Fve got v.-ater since Allie 
has, anyway." 

"If you 're waiting for me, it will be a long time 
before you get anything to drink." Allie said. "I 
do n't propose to lug water in this rain, I can tell you 
that. The fellow that kicked it over ought to get 
it, I say." 

The boys were all as tired and cross as only boys 
on a wet night in camp can be, and the dispute bade 
fair to end in a real quarrel. Carl looked at them 



CAMPING AND TRAMPING 41 

for a moment as they lay stretched out comfortably 
before the crackling fire; then he quietly picked up 
the pail and started out towards the spring. 

A minute afterwards the minister came up with a 
fresh armful of wood. 

"Hasn't Carl shown up yet?" he asked, looking 
out into the gathering darkness a little uneasily. 

"Yes," Allie replied. "But he 's gone after a pail 
of water." 

"Seems to me he 's had hard enough work this 
afternoon without lugging water for you lazy fel- 
lows," the minister said, reproachfully. 

No one made reply. 

When they were not away from home on long 
camping expeditions sometimes the boys would spend 
the night in a tent on an island in the lake. 

One summer evening Carl invited a theological 
student of my acquaintance to go out to the island to 
spend the night. This is the way the student after- 
wards told me of his adventure : 

"We walked about a quarter of a mile through the 
bushes before we came to the lake. Carl was going 
ahead to show me the foot-path. Suddenly he stop- 
ped and emitted a low, long whistle. 

" 'What 's the matter ?' I cried. 

" 'Cracky ! That boat ain't here. Some of the 
fellows must have gone over already.' 

" 'Then we might as w^ell turn round and go back,' 
I said, with some alacritv, for already the mosquitos 



42 



A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 



had begun to bite, and I was not enthusiastic over 
the prospect of a night in an open tent. 

" *Oh, no,' Carl said. 'No need of that.' 

"And to my astonishment he began to undress. 

" 'What are you going to do?' I asked, in some 
alarm. 

" 'Swim it,' he said, shortly. 

" 'Can't you swim?' he asked, after a while, no- 
ticing that I did not follow his example. 

" 'A little," I replied, looking doubtfully at the 
water already beginning to look dark and threaten- 
ing in the settling gloom. 

"Assured that I could swim, he gave me no further 
thought. He finished his undressing with remark- 
able rapidity, rolled his clothes into a bundle and 
tied them together with a string from his pocket. 
Then, holding the bundle out of the water with one 
hand, he plunged in." 

"And what did you do?" I asked, laughing at the 
student's predicament. 

"I — well, I did n't just like the idea of being 
stumped by a boy, so I undressed and went in after 
him. And we had a jolly night of it, too." 

During the summer before the war Allie and Carl, 
with their mother, made a long visit at the home of 
their grandparents. While there, a frequent com- 
panion of Carl's hunting and fishing trips was a boy 
who for some reason was not a general favorite in 
the neighborhood. This boy was so unlike Carl 
that one dav his mother said ti^ him. 



CAMPING AND TRAMPING 43 

"Carlie, what makes you go with Tom so much? 
Do you like him?" 

"Oh, Tom is all right," he replied, rather evasively. 

"Is it just because he likes to hunt and fish that 
you go with him ?" she asked. 

"It 's partly that," he replied. 

"But is n't he coarse? And does n't he sometimes 
swear, Carlie?" 

"Not very often when he 's with me." he an- 
swered. 

"But what makes you go with him?" she in- 
sisted. "Why do n't you tell me?" 

He did not reply immediately, and she, knowing 
his ways, waited patiently. By and by he said 
quietly, without looking up, 

"Mamma, Tom does n't have many friends; and I 
was thinking, too, that perhaps I might get him to 
join the Christian Endeavor Society. Do n't you 
think it would be nice if he would?" 

"Indeed I do," she replied, softly; and a tear 
glistened in her eye. 

During all that evening Carl was unusually quiet 
and thoughtful. 

"What is the matter to-night?" his mother asked, 
as she kissed him good-night. 

"Mamma, you do n't think it is wrong for me to 
go with Tom, do you?" he asked, doubtfully. 
"No," she replied. "I think it is right." 
"And you won't be afraid that he will get me into 
bad habits?" 



44 



A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 



"No, I hope rather that you wih lead him into 
good habits." 

"Then I think I will go around to-morrow and see 
if he wants to go fishing with me Saturday," he said. 

Then he ran up-stairs to his room two steps at a 
time, and in the exuberance of the thought that he 
was approved he began to bang Allie over the head 
with a pillow. 



VI 
QUIET WALKS AND TALKS 

Carl was accustomed to hide the most precious of 
his boyish treasures in a certain secluded nook in the 
woods near his home. The treasure is still there in 
the hole which he had dug at the foot of a big- pine. 
The hole is still covered with the same flat stone 
which he placed over it, the stone in turn carefully 
concealed with loose dirt and pine needles. The 
spot is known only to his parents and to one other 
friend much older than himself with whom he was 
often confidential. 

He invited this friend to visit the nook one Sat- 
urday afternoon when they were out walking to- 
gether. After he had gleefully removed the 
stone and had exhibited his collection — some empty 
cartridges, a broken revolver, a big clasp-knife and 
a little worn Testament — they sat down by the 
brookside to talk. 

"How did you happen to find this beautiful spot, 
Carl ?" his friend asked, as she carelessly roiled the 
water with a stick. 

"Do n't do that !" he exclaimed, quickly. 

"Do n't do what?" 

"Do n't muddv mv brook." 



45 



46 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

"Why, the brook does n't care/' she said, laugh- 
ing. 

"Yes, it does, too. It Hkes to be clear and pure 
all the time. Do you know what this brook always 
makes me think of?" 

"No, what?" 

"It makes me think of the way our hearts ought to 
be, pure and clean." 

She was silent a minute, watching the water un- 
til it became perfectly clear again. 

"But when our hearts become muddy, Carl," she 
said, "it 's much harder for us to cleanse them than 
it is for the current to cleanse the brook." 

"Yes, that 's so," he acquiesced. "The only way 
we can keep them clean is to keep fighting all the 
time. Do you remember something you told me 
two or three years ago?" 

"I suppose I told you a good many things. I re- 
member we used to have many long talks. To 
what do you refer?" 

"One day you told me that you thought I had a 
weak chin." 

"Nonsense, Carl, I do n't believe that I ever said 
that." 

"Yes, you did. One day when wc were walking 
home from Sunday-school." 

"I must have been joking, then," she said. "I 
am sure I never thought you had a weak chin." 

"Well. I 'm glad you told me so, anvwav," he de- 
clared. 



QUIET WALKS AND TALKS 47 

"Why?" 

"Because it helped me to control myself. I 

thought if I was naturally weak that I 'd have to 
fight hard to keep straight. So the thought has 
helped me fight." 

"Why, what a boy you are !" she exclaimed. 
"What things do you have to fight, I wonder?" 

"My temper, most of all. You do n't know what 
a terrible temper I have when it gets started. And 
sometimes I have to fight the temptation to smoke." 

"To smoke, Carl?" 

"Yes. I never did smoke in my life, but some- 
times I want to. I 'm glad I do n't have lots of 
spending-money. If I did, I 'm afraid I should 
smoke in spite of myself." 

"Then I 'm glad for you that you have n't the 
money," she said. 

After that they read together a chapter from the 
worn Testament. The treasures were again care- 
fully hidden; and they left the quiet spot in the 
woods to the possession of the brook and of the 
birds. 

Not very long before Carl's enlistment he invited 
this same friend to a canoe-ride on the river. 

It was a quiet May day and the budding foliage 
was perfectly reflected in the still water as they glided 
swiftly on. 

"Is n't it a beautiful world !" she exclaimed. 

"Yes," he replied. "I wonder what makes it 
so?" 



48 ^^ SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

"Why, 1 suppose God makes it so because he loves 
us." 

He paddled in silence for some time and then he 
said, slowly, 

"Do you know that sometimes I 'm afraid that 
there is n't any God ?" 

"Why, Carl, that does n't sound like you at all. I 
did not know that you had any doubts like that." 

"Sometimes I have them pretty bad," he said. 
"But I fight them, and most always I get the better 
of them. But, after all, how do we know that there 
is a God?" 

"We do n't know it so exactly as we know some 
things. V\Q have never seen him, but we see signs 
of him every day. And I think it is best for us to 
look at the signs. It 's only by keeping our eyes 
fixed on what light we have that we can ever get 
any more light. Now, this beautiful world seems 
to me one of the signs of God. And when we think 
of its beauty and of its adaptability to our enjoy- 
ment, we cannot help thinking of the God of love." 

"Yes, and there are other signs, too," he said, 
resting his paddle in mid-air. "There is the love 
of our friends. If we have friends to love us, then 
it 's easy to believe that there is a God to love us. 
But sometimes I doubt even my friends. I want 
the absolute proof of their love and of God's love." 

"Yes, I know. That 's the way with most of us. 
Instead of turning our eyes towards what imperfect 



QUIET WALKS AND TALKS 



49 



light we ha\'e, we turn them away and ask for the 
perfect light." 

"That 's a good thought," he declared. "To keep 
our eyes towards what light we have. I 'm going to 
remember that.'' 

He dipped his paddle again into the water, and 
for several minutes they sped down the river in si- 
lence. Carl finally broke the stillness with a hearty 
boyish laugh. 

"\Miy, you almost startled me!" his friend ex- 
claimed. "'^^llat made you laugh like that?" 

'T was thinking of what big fools we must seem 
to God," he said. 

On pleasant Sunday afternoons, when the deputy's 
business permitted he used to take some of his 
family to ride or to walk. When walking the boys 
usually in play disputed with each other for the 
privilege of walking next to their mother. But Carl 
for the most part was content to wait. And when 
the younger boys had romped on ahead, and when 
Allie had begun to argue matters of State impor- 
tance with his father, then he would walk by her 
side and have a long, quiet talk. She would tell 
him some incident of his babyhood, perhaps, or it 
maybe they would talk together of the days of his 
coming manhood. 

One afternoon their attention had been called to 
a large bed of brilliant sunflowers in a garden they 
were passing. 

Chr— 4 



^O A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

"You and Allie used to sing to sunflowers when 
you were little boys," she said. 

"Sing to sunflowers?" he asked, with interest. 

"Yes. One day when I wanted you to come to 
dinner, I found you in the garden standing hand-in- 
hand before some sunflowers; and you were look- 
ing up at them and singing as loudly as you could." 

"What kind of a tune was it?" 

"I do n't think there was much tune to it. It 
was some kind of a rigmarole that I could n't make 
out at all. But it was just as much a song to you." 

"Now, what do you suppose made us do that?" 

"I "m sure I do n't know. Perhaps you thought 
the sunflowers were beautiful and you were praising 
them for their beauty. You boys used to do lots 
of queer things, anyway." 

"And we do now sometimes, do n't we?" he asked, 
laughingly. 

"Yes. Once in a while. And that makes me 
think, Carlie, of a queer thing you did last winter. 
I 've wanted to ask you about it for a good while, but 
I have n't thought of it when there was a chance. 
You remember your father gave each of you boys 
two dollars to spend for Christmas presents?" 

"Yes." 

"And the presents you bought were very cheap 
ones. I do n't think they could have cost more than 
seventy-five cents all together." 

"Thev did n't cost but sixtv-five cents." 



QUIET WALKS AND TALKS 51 

"Yes. And your father asked you what you had 
done with the rest of your money, and you said you 
did n't want to tell him. Do you remember?" 

"Yes, and I remember that father thought I was 
stingy, too." 

"Perhaps so. Anyway, we both thought it was 
very queer. Do you mind telling me now what you 
did with the money?" 

He walked on silently for a few moments, striking 
the bushes viciously with his stick. 

"I bought a Bible for Fred Phillips," he said, after 
a while. 

"What made you do that ?" 

"He did n't have a good Bible and I thought he 
needed one more than you and the boys needed more 
expensive presents. Do n't you think that was 
right?" 

"Why, yes, I guess so. But why did n't you tell 
your father of it when he asked you?" 

"Because Fred was ashamed not to be able to buy 
the Bible for himself, and he would n't take mine 
until I had promised that I would n't tell anybody I 
had given it to him." 

"But you are telling me now," she said. 

"I know it. And I do n't know whether it 's just 
right to or not. But since Fred has moved to Bos- 
ton I felt that it could n't make any difference to him. 
Do you suppose he would care if he knew?" 

"No, I guess not," she replied, smiling. 



52 



A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 



"Say, mamma, Mr. Campbell told me to-day that 
Fred had joined the church. Isn't that good 
news ?" 

"Yes, indeed, it is. Perhaps your giving him the 
Bible helped him to do it, too. Carlie. when you 
get to be a man do you suppose you will always be 
so careless of how others may misunderstand you?" 

"I 'm not careless of that now," he declared. "The 
desire to be popular is one of the things I have to 
fight against all the time." 

"But you did n't seem to care that your father 
thought you stingy." 

"I did care, though," he said. "I cared a good 
deal more than you thought I did. But I did n't see 
how I could help it and keep my promise to Fred. 
So I tried not to think about it." 

"Well, when you get to be a man are you going to 
be so careful to keep your promises even when it 
hurts you?" 

"1 do n't know." he replied, sadly. "I 'm not al- 
ways sure of myself. Perhaps it will depend some 
on what business I go into. Do you think I ought 
to decide pretty soon what I am going to be, 



mamma 



"No, I do n't believe I should hurry about that. 
Perhaps you can decide better when you are a little 
older. But I should decide one thing now if I 



were you. 

"What's that?" 



QUIET WALKS AND TALKS 53 

"I should decide that no matter what my business 
or profession might be, I should always do what was 
right, no matter what it cost." 

''That 's what I mean to do now," he said, "But 
I can't feel sure of myself enough to make such a 
resolution for all my life. Do you suppose I could 
keep it?" 

"I think God could help you keep it," she said, 

"Yes. of course he could!" he exclaimed. "Some- 
times I forget about God and think I have to fight 
all alone. Well, mamma, here I promise you this : 
With God's help I will always be honest and true to 
my Christian principles." 

Just then the younger boys ran up to show their 
mother a butterfly they had captured. 



VII 

THE ENLISTMENT 

When in the spring of 1898 rumors of war spread 
over the country, the patriotism of Concord burst at 
once into fever-heat. The town had been made fa- 
mous by the battle of 1776. It had sent a large 
quota of volunteers to the war of 1861. So, to the 
boys of 1898, sons of veterans and grandsons of 
veterans, there was no thought of staying at home. 
"Why ought I to enlist?" was a question hardly any 
young man of Concord considered. The questions 
were rather, "What arrangements must I make for 
going? In whose hands shall I leave my business? 
Under whose protection my family?" To the 
younger boys of the high school the great question of 
the day, which eclipsed everything else, was, "How 
can I get my parents' consent ?" 

When a call for volunteers had actuallv Ijeen is- 
sued by the President, the work of the Concord high 
school might almost as well have been suspended. 
Before school and after school and all through the 
recesses the older boys in groups discussed each 
other's prospects of going to Cuba, the smaller boys 
listening with envy and the girls with admiration. 

"The President 's done it, pa !" Allie shouted, as he 

54 



THE ENLISTMENT 55 

burst into the "den" on the afternoon of April 24. 

"So I have seen in the papers," his father repHed, 
drily, without looking up from his work. 

I f Allie had been closely observant he would have 
noted a certain nervous repression in his father's 
tone, but he was too excited to perceive it. 

"Carl and I want to go," he continued, throwing 
himself in a chair opposite his father. 

Mr. Hart arose and walked to the window where 
he stood for some time looking out at the dreary 
brick walls of the Reformatory. Finally he said, 
without turning around, 

"Where's Carl? Bring him here." 

Carl had gone to his mother. Allie found him in 
the sewing-room and brought him into the "den." 

"And so you want to go to Cuba to fight the 
Spaniards, do you?" Mr. Hart asked, turning from 
the window. 

"I think I ought to go," Carl replied. "I 've been 
thinking about it for some time. I am young and 
strong and nobody at home needs me." 

"Yes, you 're young enough," his father said, — 
"too young. They would n't take you." 

"Oh, that could be fixed all right," Allie broke in, 
eagerly. "He could go as a musician if he could n't 
get in any other way. And then, after he was once 
in, he could fight with the rest. You know they 'd 
take him just as well as I do." 

Yes, Mr. Hart did know it, and he turned his face 
to the window again. 



^6 -^ SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

"Can we go?" Allie demanded, impatiently. 

"I '11 have to think it over a while," his father said. 
"I 'm glad you want to go. I thought you would. 
But I '11 have to talk it over v.ith your mother. I '11 
let you know what we decide in the morning." 

The boys went from the "den" directly to the 
sewing-room. jMrs. Hart looked up from her work, 
and when she saw Allie's flushed, eager face and 
Carl's expression of quiet determination, a pained 
look came for a moment into her eyes, but she brave- 
ly conquered it. 

"You need n't say what you want," she said, lay- 
ing down her work and putting one hand on the 
shoulder of each. "I think I know. Your father 
and I have already been talking about it, and I think 
you can trust us to decide for the best. Now go 
aw^ay, please. I cannot talk about it ngw." 

That evening, long after the younger boys were in 
bed, even after Allie and Carl had ceased their ex- 
cited conversation and had at last fallen asleep, Mr. 
and Mrs. Hart sat in the "den" and faced the 
problem so many parents faced that spring — the 
problem wherein parental love and patriotic duty 
were struggling for ascendency. 

"Not at' this first call," Mr. Hart said to the boys 
in the morning. "Allie is n't over strong, and Carl 
is n't very old. There will l)e plenty of men more 
fitted for the service than you to answer this call. 
But we believe the cause is a just one. and, as I told 



THE ENLISTMENT 



57 



you yesterday, we are glad that you want to go ; and 
if the country should need more men by and by, then 
you may both try to pass the examination." 

So it happened that the tv/o boys were forced to 
look on with long faces while Company I of Concord 
was organizing and drilling-. They saw many of 
their companions march away to the state camp at 
South Framingham, and soon they heard that the 
Sixth had been ordered to Camp Alger. Still there 
came no second call. 

But early in June recruiting officers were sent 
north with instructions to enlist more men. 
Thirty-two men were needed for each company. 
And all too soon Captain Cook of Company I, who 
had been appointed one of the recruiting officers, 
called for more volunteers from Concord. 

That was a sad day and a glad day to the different 
members of the Hart family. When Mrs. Hart 
learned that the recruits had been called for, she hur- 
ried to her room alone. A little later she came out 
with a face calm and brave, but with a heart almost 
breaking with anxiety. Mr. Hart said not a word, 
but the lines of his face deepened. Allie was hila- 
riously exultant. Carl was subdued and sober. 

On the afternoon of June ly the boys went with 
their father to the recruiting station. 

Carl passed the examination successfully, as all 
who knew him expected him to do. It is safe to as- 
sert that no young man in his company entered the 



^8 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

service of his country with a better physical equip- 
ment than did he. He was five feet nine inches in 
height. He weighed one hundred and seventy 
pounds. He had never been seriously ill, and his 
body was hardened and toughened by the healthy 
outdoor life and the athletic sports in which he de- 
lighted. 

But Allie was not at first so successful. Not only 
was he lacking in Carl's superb physique, but he was 
manifestly nervous, and on the first test of his eyes 
he failed. 

"Come in here a minute, Air. Hart," Captain Cook 
said to him. 

"Now if you v.'ant me to," he continued, when they 
were in the private room by themselves," I can re- 
fuse both of your boys, — Carl on the age limit, and 
Allie on his eyesight. If you do n't want them to 
go, just say the word and I '11 send them back home." 

"Captain Cook," Mr. Hart replied, "I do n't treat 
my boys that way. I told them they could go on the 
second call, if they could pass the examination, and 
so they can. There is no reason why I should not 
give my boys to the service of their country. No, 
I want you to pass them if they ought to be passed. 
Pass them both if you can. I do n't want one of 
them t(» go away alone. Allie was nervous just 
now. Give him another trial on his eyes and he 
will come out all right." 

"Just as you say," the captain replied, and I think 



THE ENLISTMENT 59 

he must have looked at his companion with admira- 
tion. 

While the captain had been out of the room, Allie 
had been occupying himself diligently in reading the 
letters across the room. At the second trial he passed 
the test all right. So both boys were enrolled. 

On the way home x\llie could hardly contain him- 
self. He was a soldier of the Sixth. He was go- 
ing to see new lands and to fight for his country. 
But Carl was unusually sober. He, too, was a soldier 
of the Sixth, and as such he was going out to 
do his duty. 

The next day Carl took part in a baseball game in 
the village. It had been rumored around town that 
the Hart boys had enlisted, but Carl made no talk 
about it. He played his part in the game as vig- 
orously and as quietly as he always played. 

The pastor of his church was present, and while 
Carl's side was at the bat he threw himself on the 
ground beside him. 

"Is it true that you and Allie have enlisted?" he 
asked. 

"Yes," he replied. 

Something in the quiet tone struck the attention 
of another bystander. 

"Do n't you want to go?" he exclaimed. 

"If I did n't want to, 't is n't likely I should have 
enlisted, is it?" Carl retorted, as he took his position 
at the bat. 



6o A SOLDIER IN TPVO ARMIES 

But to his friend and teacher, who he felt would 
understand him, he was more frank. He was very 
sober as he told her that he had passed his examina- 
tion successfully and was soon going to join the 
regiment at Camp Alger. 

"I shall not see very much of you for a good 
wdiile," he said, sadly. 

"We won't think of that," she replied. ''You '11 
be coming back soon with all the glory of a hero. 
You want to go, do n't you?" 

"No," he said. "I do n't believe I do." 

"Then what made you enlist?" she asked. 

"I think I ought to go. Here I am, a great, 
strapping fellow with nothing to do in the world, 
and nobody dependent on me. And the country 
needs men. I think I ought to go, do n't you?" 

"You know best about that," she replied. "It is 
something which you must decide for yourself." 

"I have decided to go," he said, quietly. 



VIII 
LAST DAYS AT HO^IE 

The days following the boys' enlistment were busy 
ones for all. ]\Ierci fully, tliere was much to do, 
and outwardly in the family the days were passed as 
other days had been passed, in work and in play and 
in genial companionship. But the calmness of out- 
ward demeanor and the pitiful attempts at the usual 
family jollity were many times paid for by the lonely 
heartaches of long and sleepless nights. Short visits 
to relatives and friends out of town and innumerable 
calls upon friends and acquaintances in town kept the 
two boys away from home during many of those 
last hours; and that was best for them all. 

Among their visits was one made at the summer 
home of the friend to whom Carl had shown his 
treasures in the wood. 

The day was spent in quiet rambles on the beach 
and in an uneventful sail upon the water. When 
evening came thev were still out-of-doors, watching 
the night cover the restlessness of the ocean, and 
comparing men's lights on the sea with God's lights 
in the heavens. 

"If the sailors did not know how to get their bear- 
ings from the stars, lighthouses would n't always 
help them, would they?" Carl remarked. 

6i 



62 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

"Pshaw !" exclaimed Allie. "Sailors do n't bother 
much about the stars now that they have their com- 
passes." 

"I think, however, that they are accustomed to 
compare the reading of the heavens with the reading 
of their charts and compasses," their friend sug- 
gested. "At least, I have been told so, and I like to 
think that God by his heavenly beacons is leading 
men into safety." 

"Yes, but it takes the lighthouses all the same," 
Allie declared. "Man has to direct himself in this 
world, for all I can see." 

"Indeed, he does," she replied, "and the world 
would not be worth living in, if he did n't." 

"See that revolving light," Carl said. "A red 
flash and then after a while a yellow flash. I should 
think the sailors would have to keep a pretty close 
watch for that. It is dark for a longer time than 
it gives light." 

"I suppose they often have to keep their eyes on 
the place where the light ought to be. before they 
can find it," his friend added. 

"That 's what I 've got to do during the days to 
come," Carl declared. "Just as the sailors keep 
their eyes fixed on that light, I 've got to keep my 
eyes fixed on Christ." 

Then without any warning he started off on the 
run. Several times he ran back and forth on the 
beach in front of the others as they still talked; until 



LAST DAYS AT HOME 



63 



at last, panting for breath, he came back and threw 
himself down beside them. 

"I had to exercise a little," he explained. "I 
have n't done much of anything all day, and I came 
near getting blue." 

On the very last evening at home, when every mo- 
ment of his time was most precious to him, Carl, with 
other members of the Christian Endeavor Society, 
met at the home of one of their number for a season 
of prayer. He had requested this meeting himself, 
feeling the need of all the strength which it would 
bring for the duties before him. Only a few of his 
most intimate friends wxre present, and a deep 
solemnity fell upon them all as they knelt together in 
the presence of their heavenly Father. 

Led by their pastor, each one present offered peti- 
tion to God for the young soldier so soon to go away 
from them. And last of all Carl prayed for him- 
self. 

He prayed that he might be kept from yielding to 
temptation; that he might not be lacking in courage; 
and that he might bring no discredit upon his friends 
and his town. But the burden of his prayer was 
for those at home. He asked that his father and 
mother might not feel his going away too severely; 
and that God in his infinite mercy would watch over 
them and preserve them in his absence. 

On the afternoon of the next day Mr. Hart drove 
his two oldest sons to the town armory, there to give 



64 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

them up to the service of their country. As many 
of the younger boys as could pile into the two-seated 
carryall went with them. But the mother said her 
good-bye at home. 

A crowd of tovrnspeople had gathered at the 
armory steps to bid farewell to these recruits, just 
as a few weeks before they had gathered to perform 
the same service for the company these were going to 
join. And, as then it had seemed fitting to the 
town to make public speeches to the young soldiers 
going away, so now men prominent in the town's 
administration were present to bid them Godspeed in 
the name of the town. 

Drawn up "at attention" before the steps which 
served as the orators' rostrum, the thirty-two recruits 
listened to the admonitions of the town fathers. 
They were told of the honorable history of the town, 
and that the prowess of their ancestors had now 
fallen as a mantle upon their shoulders. And they 
were charged to acquit themselves like men worthy 
of so noble a heritage. The hearts of the recruits 
swelled with pride as they listened, and to each one 
there came anew the fervent desire for opportunity 
to bring glory upon himself and to his town. 

Meanwhile, the friends of the young soldiers 
looked at them from afar and waited in the vain hope 
of further conversation with their sons and brothers 
whom perhaps they would never see again. But 
war is war, and when the call to arms lia^ disturbed 



LAST DAYS AT HOME 65 

the country's peace, then quiet words of homely love 
must ever give place to the more resounding phrases 
of patriotism. 

Through the oratory and cheers of their towns- 
men, Allie and Carl stood side by side, Allie's face 
flushed and nervous, Carl's wearing the same ex- 
pression of unmoved determination it had worn since 
his enlistment. 

The exercises at the armory were concluded at last, 
and the soldiers were marched to the station. Here 
they were allowed to break ranks. But the train 
was already in sight, and all was confusion. The 
most of those going away were excitedly rushing 
from one friend to another saying last words of fare- 
well, in some cases carelessly and even flippantly. 
But Carl seemed to have plenty of time. His words 
to his friends were few indeed, but his manner was 
composed and thoughtful, and his hand-pressures 
were long and lingering. 

"All aboard!" Thus were the last good-byes 
rudely interrupted, and men and boys began jostling 
each other in their haste to board the train. A few 
furtively wiped tears from their eyes; but for the 
most part they were laughing loudly at pointless 
jokes. 

The engine puffed and panted, and the train thun- 
dered on, carrying with it the hopes and the prayers 
of friends left behind. 

Carl was one of the last to step on the train, and 

Chr— 5 



66 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

SO long as the train was in sight he stood on the rear 
platform waving a flag. The sun shone full upon 
him as he stood there, and from the lapel of his army 
coat there flashed the button of the Christian En- 
deavorer. 



IX 
ROUGH EXPERIENCES 

Much of our knowledge of Carl's life after he left 
his home has been derived from his own letters to 
parents and friends. The first note was penciled 
to his father before the train reached Boston. 

"Dear Father: 

1 have started to write this after we passed Cam- 
bridge, and the car is so joggly that it wriggles my 
arm awfully. I have had to ride all the way with a 
man half-seas-over, in the same seat in the smoking- 
car. We are all right. Everybody seems in good 
spirits. C. A. H." 

Less than an hour from home, but already in his 
disagreeable surroundings the journey had begun to 
seem long and tedious. Later in the same day he 
scribbled a note to his mother. 

"7.15 on the train. 

"Dear Mamma : 

All right ! Remembering that to-morrow night is 
consecration meeting at the C. E., I thought that I 
would send my verse to be read. Will you please 

ask W to read the 141st Psalm. 

C. A. H. 

P. S. Just arrived at Worcester." 

67 



68 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

From Albany he wrote once more, dating his let- 
ter 1.30 A. M. on Sunday morning, June 26, and tell- 
insf them of his safe arrival at the end of the first 
stage of his journey. In a later letter to a friend he 
tells of the whole journey more in detail : — 

''When we got to Albany at 11.00 p. m.," he 
wrote, "we marched to a train where we had to stay 
until the train started at 3.15. We had gone but 
twenty-three miles when we were side-tracked and 
had to wait three hours. After we left the side 
track the ride was very interesting, on the west shore 
of the Hudson. We passed the wonderful bridge at 
Poughkeepsie, and went through West Point and 
came to New York. There we saw the great Lib- 
erty Statue in the harbor. 

"We went to Jersey City, and wc were told that we 
could get out and get some dinner. They played a 
mean trick on us and only gave us fifteen minutes for 
dinner, and they said we might have thirty, and we 
had to go off without paying, some of us. We left 
there about twelve o'clock on the Baltimore and 
Ohio. We passed through Baltimore but did not 
stop. \\1ien we got to Washington we were al- 
lowed to go about for half an hour; then we took the 
train for Dun Loring, where Lieutenant Hart met us 
with teams and carried us to Camp Alger. Here 
our quarters were assigned, and after eating supper 
we turned in for the night. We had at last reached 
our destination." 



ROUGH EXPERIENCES 



69 



The first letter from Camp Alger written to his 
parents was dated Monday evening, June 27. 

"This is the third time that I have tried to write to 
you to-day, and now I am in the Y. M. C. A. tent, 
writing. I will tell you our day's programme. This 
morning reveille sounded at 4.15, extra early because 
the company had to go a two days' march. We had 
time to wash up and clean up the tents and roll up 
the blankets; then came the call to breakfast. After 
eating breakfast we had a few leisure moments and 

I sat down to write you a letter. B D lent 

me some paper, but I had just written about ten 
lines when the order came, 'Police,' which means 
clean up the company street. 

''After that was done I was ordered to report to 
the commissary to get canteen and shelter tent, but 
Lieut. Hart came along looking for a detail to go 
with a baggage-wagon to Dun Loring. I made 
myself prominent and was taken in the detail, which 
consisted of seven men. We went down about 8 
o'clock and we had to wait around until 12 o'clock to 
get the freight. We got back to camp about i 
o'clock, but I was then sent looking for dinner, which 
consisted of milk and bread for me. Then I was 
sent to the commissary to get my canteen and shelter 
tent and to be measured for my suit. Then I was 
told that I might put my initials on the 'duds^' which 
I did. Just then I sat down to write, but I was so 
sleepy I could hardly see, so I routed out F and 



70 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

we went looking for a wash, but we could n't find it. 
We came back in time for supper at 7 o'clock. Then 
we had a drill in facings and marchings. We were 
dismissed at 8 o'clock, which gave me an hour in 
which to write and 15 minutes in which to get back 
before taps. 

"For 'grub' we had hardtack here last night along 
with canned corned beef and coffee without sugar 
and milk. For breakfast some more hardtack, cof- 
fee (cold), beans baked and some 'salt.' For dinner 
we had 'soft tommy,' 'sow belly' (pork), and coffee 
with milk and sugar. 

"If there is anything you want to know, please 
write. Allie and I are bright and chipper to-day as 
can be. I must be closing, for I must read my Bible 
before time to go to bed." 

The two days' march referred to in the letter was 
the trial march of the brigade consisting of the Sixth 
Massachusetts, the Sixth Illinois, and the Eighth 
Ohio. Every movement was made in detail as 
though in the enemy's country. The night was 
spent in the half-shelter tents, and on the morning 
of the 28th there was a mock battle, the Sixth Massa- 
chusetts trying to prevent the other regiments from 
returning to the camp. 

The new recruits, "rookies," as they were called 
by their more sophisticated companions, were left 
in camp. Thus, during the absence of the others, 
the new men from Concord had plenty of opportu- 



ROUGH EXPERIENCES 



71 



nity to get accustomed to their surroundings, and 
they were not subjected to the good-natured hazing 
which some of the others were obHged to undergo. 

Camp Alger at this time was a tented city having 
a population of over ten thousand. It was laid out 
in squares and each company had its own company 
street. Enterprising craftsmen carried on lucrative 
business operations on the street corners. A theater 
furnished daily amusement to the soldiers who cared 
to spend their money in that way. The Y. M. C. A. 
had its tent, providing the boys with a quiet place in 
which to rest and to write letters. Religious ser- 
vices were held nearly every day m this tent, as well 
as in the tent of the Salvation Army. 

To Carl this great white city seemed indeed the 
"great wide world" and to him there came the utter 
loneliness of a stranger in the midst of strangers. 
To his friend, under date of June 28, he wrote, "I 
am here in the great wide world, with no friend 
about me except my great God, who will protect me 
against the evils of camp life." 

No one who has not been in an army camp can 
imagine its roughness and coarseness. 

"College life," said a Harvard man who was in 
Carl's company, "is refinement itself compared with 
camp life. In college men are sometimes profane, 
and they often indulge in coarse jokes that they 
would not tell to their mothers and sisters; but they 
are obscene for the sake of the joke, not for the sake 



72 



A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 



of the coarseness. In camp, men are dirty for the 
sake of being dirty. In most cases it is a 'bluff' to 
hide deeper feeHngs of homesickness and sadness. 
In a few instances it may be wanton callousness, but 
in all cases the language of the majority of men in 
camp can be described only by the word 'rotten.' 
Men who are unaccustomed to any vileness at home, 
at camp vied with each other in the attempt to say 
the most dirty thing. And when the men got to- 
gether in the company streets to sing, the purity of 
the influence of some familiar song sweetly and pow- 
erfully rendered would often be rudely befouled by 
some one crying out, 'Now let 's say something 
nasty.' " 

"The life here is jarring," Carl wrote to a friend 
under date of July 3. "It is all I can do to keep my 
spirits up, but I have a Guide and purpose in this 
world, and who could fail to be true to himself? 

"When I sit down to write to you there comes a 
sadness over me that I cannot account for. Even 
as I write tears stand in my eyes in spite of myself. 

. . . I suppose I am foolish to write thus but 
it seems to be this or nothing with me and I know 
you will understand it." 

And then he goes on to speak of receiving the 
Testament which she had sent him and of the com- 
fort he finds in reading it. 

But in the letters written to his parents at this 
time there is not a suggestion of loneliness or of 



ROUGH EXPERIENCES 73 

heart-sickness. A letter of June 29 is chiefly con- 
cerned with describing the daily routine of camp 
life :— 

"I do n't know just where I left off in my last let- 
ter, but I will tell you something about myself and 
life at Camp Alger. Here is the programme : 5.15, 
reveille; 5.30, roll-call; 5.45, breakfast; then the 
next thing is drill for i^ hours, then after another 
interval, dinner. In the afternoon comes another 
drill of I "I hours; then supper comes. Next in line, 
the recruits have a drill in the evening, which lasts 
half an hour. We have all drawn our suits, leg- 
gings, blankets, ponchos, guns and gun-slings, can- 
teens, knife, fork, spoon and tin cup. I had my 
hair cut day before yesterday and it looks very funny 
now. I am feeling very well and can sleep well 
nights. We expect to move to Newport News Fri- 
day, but when and where we go after that I cannot 
tell. This news has not been confirmed as yet." 

And his letter of July 4th to his parents merrily 
relates some of the amusing incidents at camp : — 

"You are doubtless thinking about us down here, 
but no more than we boys down here think of you, so 
many miles away from us. We are spending our 
Fourth away from home and I think perhaps you 
would like to know how we spent it. 

"Last night the boys, that is, those in our regi- 
ment, began to celebrate and fire blank cartridges, 
but orders came from headquarters that we should 



74 



A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 



not make any noise or celebration whatever until 
reveille at 5.15 in the morning. Some evil spirit in 
Co. K, next street to us, fired off a gun during the 
night, but nobody seemed to know anything about it 
when the officer of the guard, who happened to be 
Capt. Cook of Co. I, came to investigate, so the cap- 
tain sent the corporal of the guard with a squad to 
guard the street and see that no further disturbance 
occurred during the night. But at reveille this 
morning there began a roar and rattle of rifles and 
cannoncrackers. Then we had breakfast, after 
that a "loaf." Allie, C — , and I tried for leave to 
go to Washington, but no permits were granted in 
our regiment to-day, so I loafed around here this 
morning, doing nothing except listening to the cele- 
bration. 

"At 12 o'clock we had dinner — the same old story 
of roast beef, half done but fresh, potatoes and coffee 
with sugar and milk and "soft tommy." This after- 
noon we heard that Santiago was taken. The Ohio 
boys got out their drum-corps and had a march, and 
then came the Sixth and they had a march. It was 
a great hullaballoo. 

"I ran across the finest practical joke this after- 
noon that I have ever seen. The report was circu- 
lated this afternoon that they had a monstrous turtle 
in H Company recruit-tent. Of course everybody 

wanted to see it. When I went up with P 

E , I saw the joke. They had put a canteen in 



ROUGH EXPERIENCES 75 

the water in a large wash-tub and surrounded it 
with boughs so that it looked at first sight like a 
portion of a turtle's body. They had over half the 
men of the Sixth, and many men from the Ohio regi- 
ment, in to see it. But the greatest fun was that 
nobody told about it after they had seen it. 

"After I had taken a good look at the turtle I 
went back to quarters and borrowed a pail, and got 
some water and did my washing, which consisted of 
one blue shirt, one pair of drawers, one undershirt 
and two handkerchiefs. Now I am sitting in the 
tent, writing. While I have been writing Sergeant 

J came into the tent and detailed F and 

D , who is also squad-leader, to go on guard, 

and so I interrupted my letter half an hour to help 

them polish their brasses. F chose my gun to 

take with him on guard-mount because it was well 
cleaned and he wants to try for orderly, and I 
thought it was in our interests to let him use it. 

"Allie and I are well. We have been a little 'off 
our feed,' but are all right again. Did Allie tell 
you that they sent him to division hospital with 
measles, when it proved to be only heat rash ? 

"The life here is very interesting but monotonous; 
but I stand it all right. I am working hard at the 
manual so as to be able to go out on dress parade 
soon. Why does n't Gardie write, and some of the 
rest of the people around there ? You must explain 
to my friends that I have very little time in which I 



76 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

can write to them and I get very homesick if I do n't 
receive one letter out of the two mails that come each 
day. 

"I sent my church Bible home to you. There is 
a note in it. Be sure and not lose it, won't you? 

I send it home because Miss sent me a very 

neat little Testament about two and one-half inches 
long, one and one-half inches wide, and less than a 
quaiter of an inch thick. It is less bulky than my 
other. She had my name printed in it in the inside 
of the front cover, — Carl Hart, Co. I, 6th Mass. It 
is very fine. 

"We are going to have a jolly good supper to- 
night. I just asked the cook's assistant and he said 
canned salmon, bread and coffee with sugar and milk. 

'T am writing this letter on borrowed paper and 
I have almost come to the end of my loan. 

"This is from your soldier boy, 

Karl." 

The expected order to move came to the regiment 
on the morning of July 6, and by evening of the same 
day the entire regiment had boarded a train of dirty 
second-class emigrant cars. 

Then began what was really the recruits' first ex- 
perience of the hardships of army travel. On the 
journey from Massachusetts they had had room 
enough and had been allowed enough money each 
day to pay for good food on the way. Now the cars 
were crowded, and traveling rations had been issued 



ROUGH EXPERIENCES yy 

in advance. Moreover, during the twenty-four hours 
occupied in the run to Charleston the men were not 
allowed to leave their assigned cars. The heat was 
intense, the filth and stench of the crowded cars well- 
nigh unbearable. 

Under these uncomfortable circumstances Carl 
found time to pencil a note home: — 

"We are at last on the move this afternoon. We 
got orders to pack up after we came in from regi- 
mental skirmish drill. We were all packed at one, 
and then we commenced to clean out our old tents 
and burn up the rubbish. We left Dun Loring at 
9 o'clock p. M,, and at this time Allie and I are in 
the best of spirits. Carl," 



X 

UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS 

The regiment reached Charleston about eight 
o'clock on the evening of July 6. But the men 
were kept in the cars until the following afternoon. 
The discomfort of their dirty, crowded cars was 
doubly hard to bear from their position beside a 
Western regiment whose train was cornposed en- 
tirely of sleeping-cars and equipped with the other 
conveniences of travel. 

Some of the boys from the Massachusetts regi- 
ment crawled out of the car windows during the' 
night and went into town for food and drink. But 
most of them pluckily stuck it out, getting what sleep 
they could in their cramped positions on the hard 
seats. During the forenoon of the next day special 
permission was granted to some of the men to leave 
the train for a few minutes at a time, and Carl wrote 
the following letter home in a drug store on King 
street : — 

"We have reached Charleston. But where we 
will go next I do not know. There is a rumor that 
we shall be sent to a garrison for a week or two until 
they are ready to send us to Cuba; there is also a 
rumor that we are going straight there. 

78 



UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS 79 

"I have just received my pay, $7.28, and in this 
letter I mail order for $10; $5 is of my pay, the other 
is some I took away with me. 

"Allie and I are very well now and it is pleasant 
sailing now we are used to the climate. 

"I must close as I have only 15 min. to be away 
from the train, and we are obliged to stay in the train 
unless we get permission otherwise. 
Your son, 

Karl." 

It was unfortunate that the soldiers' pay-day 
should come just at this time. The men were ex- 
pecting to go at once into the enemy's country where 
they thought there would be no opportunity for using 
money. So the majority either sent their money 
home, as Carl did, or spent it foolishly in intemperate 
eating and drinking in Charleston. Later, when 
they needed money, they were short. 

The night of July 7 the regiment spent on the 
docks of Charleston. The men slept, some in the 
open air and others in empty cotton-sheds, and the 
luxury of abundant room was highly appreciated by 
all. Carl wrote home on the 8th as follows : — 

"I have snatched a few minutes to write to you 
another letter before we go. How long it will be, 
I do not know, but it will be within two days or else 
we may wait a month. You see we are loading so 
many troops down here now we can hardly tell who 
is going and who is n't. Allie and I are both enjoy- 



8o A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

ing good health and strength. We have been in 
Charleston two days, this being the second one, and 
you ought to see the different places we have slept 
in. The night of the 6th we slept in the cars of 
the Penn. Central R. R. which we came down in 
over the Southern and S. C. and G. railroads. We 
could not possibly stretch our feet out straight — I 
mean our bodies. Last night we slept in empty 
cotton-sheds with boards under us. I slept fine and 
I have not even unrolled my blanket, using my roll 
for a pillow. 

"The water here in the South is very bad. I have 
hardly drunk a quart of water in four days and that 
is saying a good deal for me. 

"Charleston is a dirty place in appearance, inside 
the stores and out. But there are three redeeming 
features. One is a store at 582 King street where 
a "white" white man keeps a provision store. He 
served us with hot coffee (that is, all who wanted to 
come in there instead of going to a saloon), bread 
and butter! !, sardines, pickles; in fact, he would 
hardly let us pay for anything. 

"The next is a statue of John C. Calhoun, who, 
you know, is the idol of South Carolina people. The 
pillar upon which it rests is about 50 feet high and 
his figure in bronze surmounts it. Near the monu- 
ment is an interesting pile surrounded by a fence. 
On it is a plate saying, "A part of the horn work 
(meaning made of sea-shells) which formed part of 



UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS gl 

the defences of Charleston during the war of '6i." 
I found a bit of shell laying round, so — 

Must close, company moves. 

Carl." 

The abrupt termination of this letter was caused 
by the order for the company to prepare to embark. 
What Carl did with the shell he found we shall never 
know, and we must always remain in ignorance of 
what seemed to him to be the third redeeming fea- 
ture of Charleston. 

The Sixth Massachusetts and one company of the 
Sixth Illinois were carried seven miles down the 
harbor in ferry-boats and transferred to the *'Yale." 
At midnight of the same day, July 8, General Miles 
and his staff boarded the transport, and almost im- 
mediately she weighed anchor and sailed for Cuba. 

The trip was uneventful. At noon on July ii 
the vessel anchored off Siboney and reported to the 
"New York." Admiral Sampson came on board 
and was closeted with General Miles in conference 
for half an hour. 

Santiago had not then surrendered, in spite of 
rumors to the contrary, and for several days the men 
of the Sixth were kept in expectation of landing to 
participate in a final attack upon the city. On July 
12 Colonel Woodward of the Sixth Massachusetts 
was informed that his regiment would be landed in 
a small bay on the west side of the city to take the 
Socapa battery, and then join the right wing of the 

Chr— 6 



82 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

army. But during all the morning of the 13th the 
white flag still floated, showing that the conference 
concerning surrender had not yet been concluded. 

During this day the men were issued rations for 
three days and were ordered to prepare to land on 
the following morning. That evening some of the 
men wrote what they thought might be their last let- 
ters home. Some talked together quietly and seri- 
ously in little groups. Some sang hymns. A few 
tried to hide their serious thoughts by an unusual 
show of bravado and coarseness. 

Carl's letter to his friend, written under this date, 
contains no reference to any danger which might be 
in store for him, but rejoices that the dreary inactiv- 
ity of the life on shipboard was so near a close : 

On board the "Yale," off Santiago. 
Dear friend : — 

1 received your last letter just as we were leaving 
Dun Loring. Since then I have traveled many miles 
and seen many things. 

Yesterday I saw them shelling the forts at Santi- 
ago and we expect to land to-day. We. that is, our 
brigade, the Sixth Massachusetts, Sixth Illinois and 
Eighth Ohio, are to hold the territory which Shafter 
has gained. That is as far as I can tell now. 

The last two or three days I have been very home- 
sick, but have got pretty nearly over it. It was in- 
action, probably, as much as anything, and now that 
we have action in sight I feel better. 

It is grand to see the fleet of the United States 
collected around the entrance of Santiago, watching 
it even closer than a cat watches a mouse. 



UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS 83 

The coast is very hilly, even precipitous in many 
places, but the vegetation is beautiful. 

We have remained on the boat and watched them 
burn a fever-infested town for three days. 

Perhaps you would like to know something about 
the voyage. I '11 tell you frankly it was, well, it 
was n't charming. We had to sleep on wet decks in 
wet clothes and blankets some of the time, for there 
was scarcely any night when there was n't rain. The 
first night out I slept upon the hurricane deck and 
while I was sleeping my regulation hat blew away 
off the ship. After going two days without a hat, 
Allie succeeded in purchasing a white yachting-cap 
from one of the sailors. Allie has been very, very 
kind to me, even giving up some fine bits that he was 
at times able to get from the officers' kitchen. 

The food we have to eat is not very good. We 
tried to feed a dog with some of the canned beef and 
he would n't eat it. We threw some hardtack over- 
board and the sharks would n't eat it. 

On the way down we sighted the island of San 
Salvador. But still more interesting than that was 
the waterspout we saw twisting to the sky in a most 
ferocious manner and continuing to spout upwards 
for fifteen minutes. 

Allie and I are both in good health although we 
are a little hungry. Yesterday noon, — well, just a 
minute : I did n't tell 3^ou that General Miles was on 
board and was going to stay here and direct things. 
Well, yesterday noon he ordered that we should have 
tomato soup for dinner. It was good, what there 
was, but there was n't very much. Thev say that 
we are going to have hash this noon. I hope so. 

Just now the sailors are washing down the deck 



84 



A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 



and I am sitting astride a flour-barrel that happens 
to be handy and writing on the rail of the ship. 

B has just opened a can of deviled ham and 

I must turn my attention to that. So good-bye, and 
"God be with you till we meet again." 
Yours very sincerely, 

Karl. • 

The morning of the 14th dawned with the white 
flag still floating. But soon after there came the 
signal, ''Santiago has surrendered." The worn, 
hungry men, who had been waiting eagerly for the 
opportunity to land and to act, burst into cheers be- 
cause it was another American victory. But grad- 
ually there settled over all the gloom of bitter dis- 
appointment; and the close quarters of the transport 
with all its privations seemed a hundred per cent, 
more unbearable than before. 

From July 14 to the 17th, the "Yale" made daily 
trips up the coast, returninp- to Siboney each night. 
But after the formal surrender of Santiago on July 
17, she sailed to Guantanamo, where she anchored. 
Then came weary days of wretched waiting under 
the most trying conditions. 

"Quartered on deck, exposed to the rain and wind 
of a tropical climate, under a burning sun by day and 
a dampness by night, the men were at the mercy of 
the treacherous climate at the worst season of the 
year. Part of the deck was covered by awnings, 
and others were put up at the end of a week. These 
served the double purpose of protecting from heat 



UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS 8$ 

and from rain and to catch water, which was con- 
sidered a luxury for drinking, as that provided on 
the boat was distilled and drawn from a faucet at 
either end of the ship at a temperature that was sick- 
ening hot. When one wanted a drink it was neces- 
sary to line up and drink in turn from a chipped- 
edged enamel cup that was used in common by the 
sick and the well. The writer was threatened with 
arrest by the marine guard for pouring water into his 
own cup to drink. No canteens were allowed to be 
filled, which prevented cooling the water even to the 
temperature of the air. When it rained at night the 
men would get up off the deck and roll their belong- 
ings in their ponchos and shiver in groups until the 
storm was over and then would lie down again upon 
a wet deck. 

"Our meals consisted of coffee, of which we never 
had enough, and that without sugar, hardtack, occa- 
sionally fat bacon, but usually raw tomatoes, a can 
of which would be given to two or three men for 
their dinner, and which at times had passed their day 
of possible usefulness and were thrown overboard. 
As an occasional luxury, half-cooked 'sow belly,' 
which would have been excellent fare for an Arctic 
expedition, was served, but this usually went to feed 
the fishes. The sailors' food was far superior to 
that of the regiment. Their sympathy was aroused 
for the men to the extent that they gladly shared 
their meals when that was possible, although they 



86 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

paid the penalty by arrest if they were found giving 
or selHng food to the soldiers. The only meal which 
the writer had on board which could be called by 
that name was a boiled dinner bought from a stoker, 
and which made a feast for three. Men who lived 
on Beacon street grabbed food from the refuse of 
the officers' table which was being thrown overboard, 
while Harvard men chased small potatoes down 
scuppers with an eagerness which could be explained 
only by the pangs of hunger." 

Even under the harsh conditions thus described in 
Lieutenant Edwards' " '98 Campaign of the Sixth 
Massachusetts," Carl's letters to his parents were 
chatty and cheerful. On July 20, when they had 
been twelve days on shipboard, he wrote the follow- 
ing :— 

On board transport "Yale," off Guantanamo. 
Dear folks : — 

You are doubtless wondering whether your boys 
are living or not and what they are doing. Do n't 
be scared. We have n't left the "Yale" yet and the 
chances of landing are small. We expect to start 
on the Porto Rican expedition very soon, but just 
what is going to be done the soldiers do n't know, 
there are so many rumors circulating. I guess that 
you received my other letter from this boat. 

The life here is very monotonous. W'e have 
regular drills, if they can be called drills. We line 
up for rifle inspection: then comes a setting-up drill; 
then we are dismissed. In the afternoon we have 
another drill of the same character. \\'e have 



UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS 87 

breakfast in the morning between 5.30 and 6,30, 
which may consist of coffee and hardtack, and for 
dinner coffee, tomato soup and hardtack, or coffee 
and hardtack, and for supper the possibihties are the 
same, — never any difference. 

I am well and even lively just now. Allie is a 
little ''off his feed," but is getting better; in fact, this 
morning he told me he would like to have me bring 
his "grub" as fast as it came up-stairs. We have n't 
seen a letter since we left Charleston. It "jars" us 
awfully. 

Yesterday afternoon we were instructed to clean 
our guns, so, having nothing better to do, I sat down 
and picked every single, solitary piece of mechanism 
apart and, what 's more strange, I got it together 
again. I am in Corporal Davis' squad. He has 
just been promoted. I am number two man in the 
rear rank; Allie is number three. 

There are a large number of things of minor in- 
terest that go on in the company. For instance, the 
"Hobo" can. This article is an old tomato-can with 
the edges turned over and fixed so that it will either 
fit the bottom of our "growler" (that is our tin dip- 
per) or leave it so that it will hitch on the handle by 
a string. 

Just now I was startled by the sound of guns, 
which proved to be the fleet saluting the flagship 
"New York" as it came into the harbor from Santi- 
ago. 

We got the report here that the papers had killed 
about 500 of the Sixth, but you know that we 
have n't been off the ship. 

We sleep on the deck always and I go "bumming" 
and sleep any old place. Company I's main quar- 



88 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

ters are on the main deck, port side, aft. I slept on 
the promenade around the berth deck for a while the 
other night, and getting tired of my place I went 
onto the main deck forward, and seeing a good clear 
space I lay down. I may have been asleep about 
two hours when some one sung out "Third relief, 
wake up," but I paid no attention because it sounded 
in another part of the ship. Pretty soon some one 
shook me by the shoulder and said, "What relief do 
you belong to?" I said, "Oh, go on, you crazy 
galoot, and let me alone !" And then I woke up and 
found I had gone to sleep in guard quarters with my 
belt on, which is a badge to distinguish the guard 
from the surrounding sleepers. I got up and started 
off. The officer of the guard said, "Here, where are 
•you going?" I said, "I ain't on guard. I 'm only 
bumming a sleeping-place." Then I went and lay 
down on the grating of the kitchen so that I 
should n't be cold during the night, for the nights 
here are very cold. 

They have let us go in swimming the last three 
days. I have been in twice. When I do n't go in 
swimming I get a bath from the hose in front of the 
breakwater. I take at least one every day and 
sometimes two. You would have laughed to see 
me do my washing the other day. 

The last time I went in swimming some one laid 
a lighted pipe down on my pants and burned a hole 
through them and now I have got that to mend. 

When you can, please send me a block of that 
thin paper such as you sent Allie, and if you think 
it practical send us both down some of those beef-tea 
capsules. 

The fellows have been fishing off the sides of the 



UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS 89 

boat and have caught a number of Spanish mackerel 
which tasted very fine. I had some. 

We have to move round every morning so that 
the sailors can wash the boats and the decks. The 
boatswain's whistle has just sounded and he has 
called for "scrub and wash clothes," which means 
that they are about to wash up the deck. So I must 
stir my corporosity and close this letter. 
Your boy, 

Karl. 

But in a letter written to his friend on the same 
day there is a strain of loneliness and sadness : — 

"I have been very homesick the last two weeks, 
but am getting over it slowly. But, nevertheless, 
when I wake up in the watches of the night, I think 
very longingly of the old Bay State and loved ones 
left behind. A night or two ago as I sat in my 
usual state, that is, arguing questions with myself, 
the band struck up 'The Stars and Stripes Forever' 
and I was reminded of our evening spent on the 
beach. I hope that God's providence will allow me 
to return home and spend another such evening as 
that." 

Yet even in this letter to his friend whom he felt 
he could burden with his loneliness, the sadness soon 
gives way to a jocose recital of some of his hard- 
ships : — 

"One thing that makes a variety in our food is 
fried hardtack. When we have nothing else to do, 
we take half a dozen hardtack and go down into the 



C)o A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

galley and fry them. They are very nice. We 
have jnst had what we call the 'cake-walk.' We 
have to make a circuit of the ship while the portion 
of the deck assigned to us is being washed down," 

The first mail from the north which was received 
by the regiment after leaving Charleston was deliv- 
ered to the boys on board the "Yale" on the morning 
of July 21. Among other letters received in that 
mail by Carl and Allie was one written by their 
father under date of July loth, which was as fol- 
lows : — 

"I hardly know what to say or how to say it. 
Our thoughts are so constantly with you that I 
really think we lose sight of a good deal that 
goes on here, for lack of attention. The house seems 
lonesome without you, and your heads would swell 
if you could know how many inquiries are made 
daily by people of all descriptions as to your where- 
abouts and welfare. . . . It is curious to see the 
different ways in which the different people who 
have sons in the Sixth take this last move of your 
going to Cuba. Some mourn and complain pub- 
licly, — on the housetops as it were. Some find 
comfort in converse with others in like circumstances, 
and some give no sign. Of these last is your 
mother. A very brave woman is your mother. 
None of the children have seen her shed a tear. But 
the piano is n't often used now-a-days. and when it 
is it seems to be running into minor chords, I have 



UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS 91 

watched her day by day, and I know as no one else 
can how much your absence means to her. In a 
way it is a comfort to me, for it is impressed upon 
me that the sons of such a mother cannot do a cow- 
ardly thing, a mean thing, or a thing in any way 
unworthy of her. And so, when I think of the 
temptations which surround you, I say, 'They will 
not yield.' W'hen I think of the dangers, I say, 
'They will not flinch.' And when I think of the 
hardships, I say, 'They will endure.' All this I ex- 
pect you will do by the grace of God and the brave 
spirit you inherit from her." 

When Carl had read this letter he sat down imme- 
diately and wrote to his mother, replying to a letter 
she had enclosed with Mr, Hart's. 

'Tt pleases me very much," he said in the letter, 
"to know that you keep flowers on my desk. As to 
the homesickness you ask me about, I own up. But 
it was only the natural longing that one has for 
home when he is away. , . , Allie and I are 
both well and healthy now, and hope you are at 
home. Money burns in the hands of the boys here. 
One fellow just said, T 'd give a whole month's pay 
to be at home.' We expect to start for Porto Rico 
at three this afternoon." 

The homesickness which Carl described to his 
mother as "the natural longing to be at home" was 
in reality a very aggravated case. For several days 
the boy was unable to eat the unappetizing food fur- 



92 



A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 



nished him. He evinced a strong desire to mope by 
himself, and Allie and his other friends in the com- 
pany had much to do to keep him from total despair. 

Meanwhile, the poor and scanty nourishment and 
the enforced inaction were beginning to have their 
effect on many men in the regiment. The second 
cabin saloon, which was used as a sick-bay, was soon 
full to overflowing. The cabin was stuffy and ill 
ventilated. Attendance was insufficient. No one 
who looked in through the ports and saw the 
wretched men panting for breath and crying in vain 
for nurses, cared to go there himself. So sick men 
crawled about as long as they could move. But 
while the ''Yale" was still off Guantanamo, just be- 
fore she v.as ordered to Porto Rico, Allie, who had 
really been ill for several days, was ordered to the 
sick-bay. On the same day Carl approached the 
doctor, asking permission to serve as his brother's 
nurse. 

"Carl Hart came to me on the 'Yale,' " writes Dr. 
Hermann \\\ Gross, then serving as lieutenant and 
surgeon to the regiment. "It was about the time 
when we were lying off Guantanamo, and the expedi- 
tion of invasion was being organized to move on 
Porto Rico. 

"At about this time William A. Hart, Carl's 
brother, was brought to the 'after sick-bay.' so-called, 
suffering from what bade fair to become a virulent 
attack of typhoid fever; and having been bunked as 



UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS 9^ 

comfortably as circumstances would permit, a special 
nurse was sought to attend to his wants. The right 
person was very soon found. During the afternoon 
my orderly, then doing nurse duty, brought to me a 
stalwart young soldier who, having duly saluted, 
expressed to me in a few words his desire to be trans- 
ferred to the hospital corps. 

"The applicant was young and beardless, but was 
large, and instantly impressed one as possessing 
more than average strength. The fact of such a 
man's coming voluntarily to me and seeking a trans- 
fer from his company led me to suspect that possibly 
there was some underlying cause for his action, pos- 
sibly some ill feeling between company officers and 
soldier, or possibly a desire on the part of this vigor- 
ous youth to shirk work. Unfortunately, such 
things happen. Men rush to the hospital to avoid 
certain unpleasant tasks, only invariably to find tasks 
equally or more trying awaiting them in their new 
position. Learning, however, from one in whom 
I placed confidence and who was more intimately in 
touch with the enlisted men than I, that this man's 
only reason for wishing the change was that he 
might be with his brother, then one of my sickest 
cases, and that his company standing was of the 
best, I agreed to take him in. Many other such 
volunteers were indeed needed, and might have eased 
much suffering." 

After the "Yale" had reached Porto Rico Carl 
wrote the following letter home : — 



94 ^-i SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

July 25, 1898. 
Near San Juan, Porto Rico. 
Dear folks at home : — 

At last we are at our destination. We have ar- 
rived at a little town about 20 miles from San Juan. 
All the regiment have landed except those considered 
physically unable to do a long series of marches and 
fights. Those remaining behind are to be kept until 
their strength is gained again. There are three from 
our company who have not stood the hardtack, beans 
and tomatoes, and Allie is one of them. You know 
that the life on board a ship is very grinding, and 
only the hardiest have stood the rush without grum- 
bling. I advised Allie to go to the hospital to re- 
cuperate, for he will get more nourishing food. He 
took my advice like a good boy and his condition is 
much bettered by it. although he is weak and has the 
usual fever that attends physical weakness. But it 
is not Yellow Jack. We have n't had a case of that 
on board. The doctor promises me that he will go 
to the Red Cross Hospital Ship, and that he will be 
taken to a more invigorating climate. I just stopped 
Major Dow as he was passing and he says they (for 
there are 100 in the same shape with him) will be 
put on board the "Lampasas," which has a body of 
trained nurses on board, and they will be taken to 
some hospital. I will find out and let you know. 

And now aliout y(^m- "buster." \\>1]. he is n't 
quite as fat as he was, but he is fully as healthy, if 
not more so. than ever before. T have taken up a 
new department of work. The other day they 
wanted an extra nurse in the hospital and so I vol- 
unteered and now T am thinking very seriously of 
joining the corps. Tf Allie goes North, as he cer- 



UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS 95 

tainly will, I shall join the corps, for there are many 
fine fellows in it and every one is kind and friendly 
to me. The hospital is very interesting and instruct- 
ive. The major said also that they would probably 
be taken to Fortress Monroe. This is not certain, 
but Allie will let you know when he reaches his des- 
tination. Must close for lack of space. 

Your loving son, 

Carl. 
That was the last letter written from the ''Yale." 
Very soon after that Carl was separated from his 
brother, who, as Major Dow had told him should be 
done, was placed on the hospital ship with the other 
sick men. But Carl saw him once more before the 
ship sailed north. 

Allie tells of that meeting in the following words : 
'T lay upon a deck on a mattress. The heat of 
the tropic skies seemed to be some malevolent fiend 
beating upon my fevered brain. I was utterly mis- 
erable. Suddenly a shadow fell before me and I 
looked up. It was my brother standing with feet 
planted wide apart, arms folded, with a beaming 
smile upon his face. A small sailor hat, replacing his 
own, which had been lost, was stuck upon the back of 
his head. He had left me by orders two days before 
but had managed to get leave and had now come 
from the shore of Porto Rico out upon the 
blazing waters three miles to see me. His 
words were cheerv and hopeful. He was 'mighty 
glad' I could go, and knew I would 'get home O. K/ 



96 A SOLDIER IX TWO ARMIES 

And SO after a few minutes he had to go. He took 
my hand, and with 'Good-bye, old man, do n't give 
up,' he left. There was a splash of oars and then a 
pause. Then up over the side of the boat came our 
whistled call. My lips were so parched I could not 
answer. Again it came clear and sweet and the 
next moment I heard his oars fall and he was gone." 



XI 

MINISTERING TO THE SICK 

It is now a matter of history that General Miles 
changed his plan of campaign, deciding to land his 
forces on the south side of the island at Guanica in- 
stead of near San Juan. So "the little town about 
20 miles from San Juan" where Carl thought he 
was, proved in reality to be the town of Guanica. 

It is also now a matter of history that the Sixth 
Massachusetts regiment here took part in its first 
and. only engagement. Not all of the companies 
were engaged, but all who were acquitted themselves 
with honor. Only three men from the regiment 
were wounded and none killed. This was on Tues- 
day, July 26, the day following the landing of the 
regiment and the very day on which the hospital 
corps came ashore. 

Carl was on duty for thirty consecutive hours be- 
fore landing, and after landing he worked in setting 
up the hospital tents until Wednesday noon. In the 
afternoon of Wednesday he was detailed by Major 
Dow, surgeon, to find three other men to go with him 
to the outposts. But all was quiet along the line 
and at noon Thursday they returned to camp. 

During Friday Carl was on police duty at camp. 

97 

Chr— 7 



98 ^ SOLDIER IX TWO ARMIES 

That afternoon, while he was talking with Dr. Gilli- 
cuddy of the Ninth Massachusetts, Dr. Whiteside of 
the Sixth Illinois approached them, and putting his 
hand on Carl's shoulder said. 

"Doctor, do you know this is the hardest working 
fellow in the corps?" 

No compliment could have pleased Carl better, 
and he gleefully reported the episode to his parents 
in his first letter from Porto Rico. 

On Saturday, July 30, began the painful march to 
Ponce. The "Yale" experience had unfitted the 
men for hard marching, and the pace set by the offi- 
cers was a rapid one. Soon the boys began to throw 
away the heaviest of their luggage, and after a few 
miles they began one by one to drop out by the way. 

The first night's camp was at Yauco, seven miles 
from Guanica, and the following morning the march 
was resumed. During this second day many men 
fell out of the ranks from sheer exhaustion, and they 
were picked up by the hospital men and carried along 
in carts. There were no ambulances in the column. 
On Monday morning those too sick to continue the 
march were sent back to Yauco by train, and Carl 
was one of the hospital corps detailed to return with 
them. 

Two days were spent here at Yauco ; then the hos- 
pital corps was ordered to proceed by rail to Ponce to 
rejoin the regiments. They carried sixty sick men 
witli tlit-ni on tliis journev. 



MINISTERING TO THE SICK 



99 



The regiment remained in Ponce until Tuesday, 
August 9. Then, as a part of General Garretson's 
brigade, it marched north in the direction of Arecibo. 
The road was only a mountain trail well-nigh im- 
passable to wagons and deep with mud. Bridgeless 
streams had to be forded, and the men were obliged 
to assist in pulling the wagons up the steep hills. 
Often some wagon would stick in the mud, causing 
much delay, and blocking, it might be. a great part 
of the brigade. 

The night camps were made in the open from 
necessity; and the men were exposed all night to the 
rain, in some instances without any protection what- 
ever, since the baggage-wagons containing the tents 
were often far in the rear. 

At three o'clock on August 11, after nearly three 
days of marching, the regiment arrived at Ad juntas 
and encamped for the night in a drenching rain. 
The rain continued all the next day, the regiment re- 
maining encamped in the mud. And on Saturday, 
August 13, the march of eighteen miles to Utuado 
was made in the one day. 

Carl, with others of the hospital corps, was left 
behind at Ad juntas at the temporary hospital in 
charge of Dr. Gross. So, here in the lonely town, 
the boy became separated from his company and 
from all his home friends. But he makes no refer- 
ence to the natural loneliness he must have felt in the 
first letters which he writes home. 
L.ofC. 



lOO ^4 SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

- "I almost wish you could be here," he wrote to a 
friend on Sunday, August 14, "to see the trees and 
plants. Flowers that are cultivated with greatest 
care in the North grow wild here. Fruits of all 
kinds grow wild; the mangrove, the orange, banana 
and limes are found abundantly. We almost could 
live on the country itself if the fruit was only ripe. 
But it is n't. 

"Well, as to my own health. I feel quite strong, 
and happy as circumstances will allow, but on Sun- 
days I get most uncontrollably homesick and I do n't 
just know the reason why. In camp life very many 
comical and also pathetic scenes occur. Imagine 
yourself seated on the tail end of an ox-cart, dangling 
your muddy feet over the tail-board, watching a com- 
pany of men file down a steep hillside, covered with 
mud almost six inches deep, to get their dinner. 
Suddenly one of the fellows loses his balance. His 
plate, knife, fork and cup fly to all points of the com- 
pass and he finally fetches up in a heap in the mud. 
But that is not all. During his wild gyrations he 
has come in contact with some gingerly balanced 
comrade and started him in motion. The action is 
contagious and in an almost incredible time the 
whole line is slipping and sliding, splashing and roll- 
ing down the hill. 

"Now place yourself in the doorway of a tent about 
8 o'clock in the evening. Through the camps the 
lights are glimmering. Men are moving hurriedly 



MINISTERING TO THE SICK iqi 

up and down the street or standing in knots about a 
campfire, talking. Now 'quarters' is sounded. The 
knots break up. The hurrying feet hurry faster. 
Now sounds the call 'taps,' the prettiest and saddest 
call ever played. The lights are put out save one 
or two stray ones. All the camp is still except the 
steady-pacing sentinel, and the soldier bids the world 
good-night and goes to sleep. 

"The sun is down and that is my only candle, so I 
must close." 

"Have you heard from Allie yet?" he wrote to his 
parents on the same day. "I got word from Ponce 
that he was much better. I got the news from one 
of the Sixth Massachusetts boys that was set ashore 
from the 'Lampasas' at Ponce. How are all the 
boys, anyway? It is very hard for me to be 'way 
off here alone, where I can get no news from home. 
It would be all right if I could only get the mail. 
But the delivery is slow and we get mail only about 
once in three weeks. But when it does come the 
more we get the better it seems. 

"Well, perhaps you would like to know about my 
health. Most of the time my spirits are fine and so 
is my health, but sometimes my spirits droop when 
I have the stomach-ache and my sleep has left me. 
Then my spirits fall and my legs grow weak. 

"Well, things seem to slip me just now and I can't 



102 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

think of anything more to write, so I '11 have to close. 

"Your loving boy, 

Karl. 

"P. S. Will you please get somebody to read the 
nth Psalm at the next consecration meeting of the 
C. E.?" 

The conditions of the hospital at Ad juntas were 
as trying as could easily be imagined. Dr. Gross 
states that the number of men left to do the work 
for the sick was ridiculously small, and that the 
quantity of work for each man was consequently ex- 
cessive. Rains were almost constant and at first 
the hospital was quartered in a mud-hole. After a 
few days, however, an empty cojffee-house in the 
town was secured, which served the purpose much 
better. "It is delightful," Carl wrote, "to be here 
out of the mud and rain and to hear the rain beating 
on the roof over you and know that it can't get 
at you." 

From exposure to the rain and the damp in the 
old quarters Carl caught a cold which he described to 
his parents as a very light one. The night work, 
too, was all new to him and very trying, and he 
missed his regular sleep. But by degrees he claimed 
to get accustomed to this, too. 

What he missed most in his life at Adjuntas was 
the inspiration of religious services. 

"It is Sunday here the same as at home," he wrote 
to a friend on August 21. "Yet I can attend no 



MINISTERING TO THE SICK 103 

church. This day of all the week is my homesick 
day, and I thought that perhaps if I wrote to some 
of my friends far away it might do me good. I 
have just finished a long letter to Miss A — in an- 
swer to one I received from her yesterday. It was 
such a beautiful letter. I tried to tell her how much 
I appreciated it, but words failed. You probably 
have heard from Allie before this. I heard from 
Lieut. Hart that he was undoubtedly at home, for 
which I thank God. But when you go to church 
Sundays just think of me and listen to the teachings 
of God's Word for me. I have nothing but my 
own strength and God to rely on now, and the sense 
of companionship of others far away does me good. 

"I have wished many times that I could know in 
what part of the Bible you are reading. But I have 
not as yet received any word from you about that 
But, nevertheless, I read my Bible just the same." 

After he was sure that Allie had reached home in 
safety he wrote the following to his mother, under 
date of August 28 : — 

'T suppose Allie has got home, according to what 
you have said in your letter. Well, give the old boy 
my love. Tell him not to worry about me, because 
I am strong and well, and can stand any amount of 
hard service. I forgot to mention (a very bad over- 
sight on my part) how good and kind he was to me 
on the 'Yale.' He brought me some good things 
from the ship's cooks and helped to make me as com- 
fortable as possible. 



I04 



A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 



''I do n't begrudge him his return one bit. When 
I got the news from Lieut. Hart that he was prob- 
ably at home safe I sat down and read my Bible, and 
I opened to the second chapter of Philippians and 
found more comfort in that than in any possible com- 
fort that could be found in this country, I shall 
stick to my Bible, for when other helpers flee, and 
all looks gloomy, I turn to God and my Bible for 
comfort and strength. 

"Well, my dear little mamma, how do you think 
your Carlie will look when he gets home? His face 
wull be just as bright but thinner; his form will be 
taller and more developed and square. But he is the 
same boy at heart and will return just as good, and 
better in his habits, as when he went off. This I 
promise you truly, before God. 

"I learned this afternoon that there is no dry sea- 
son here. It rains all the time. I can readily be- 
lieve it. I am having a snap just now. Only 
seventeen fellows in our hospital, and they are all 
but one convalescent and able to help themselves." 

But in this same letter Carl makes mention of the 
death of two of the patients in the hospital. It 
seems that one of the men died during the hours 
when he was on night watch alone, and the expe- 
rience ag^ed him. It was soon after this that he 
wrote home: "I have lost most of the 'kiddishness' 
that papa used to come at me for so much. I am also 
fast learning to do things independently and if I learn 



MINISTERING TO THE SICK 



105 



that faculty, one of my purposes in coming to this 
war is fulfilled." 

During the last week in August Carl's strength be- 
gan to fail him, but he made no complaint. "The 
food" as he expresses it in his letter, "does not agree 
with me very well. So I am living mostly on 
bananas." 

"I cast my lot where I knew the road would be 
rough," he wrote again, "and why should I com- 
plain ? It seems to me at times that I must give way 
to my lower self, and let the work slip off my back on 
others perhaps more tired than myself. But I have 
a tender, kind Father in heaven who tells me that my 
way is right. I have very little to uphold me in this 
work away from my friends. My happy moments 
are those which I spend with my Bible during my 
night watches, or thinking of happy days gone by, or 
building new air-castles for days to come. I am 
happy, too, v»^hen I read the little verse written in the 
front of the Testament and so thankful for the 
power to understand its deeper meaning." 

The verse he refers to is this from Emerson : — 
"So nigh is grandeur to our dust, 
So near is God to man, 
When Duty whispers low, Thou must, 
The youth replies, I can." 

"To-day I 'm not feeling at all well," he wrote to 
a friend on August 29, "but I suppose it is only tran- 
sient, and I will feel better in a day or two. You 
say you do n't see how my letters can be so cheerful. 



Io6 A SOLDIER IX TWO ARMIES 

Well, you know there 's no use in crying, so I might 
as well laugh." 

"Do n't worry about me,'' he wrote at another 
time, "but look after the boys at home. I 'm all 
right." 

W'hen the number of the sick men had somewhat 
diminished, Carl, who had sometimes been working 
both night and day, was on duty for the most part 
only in the night. The night was divided into two 
watches, his hours being from midnight until six 
o'clock. This gave him some wakeful hours dur- 
ing the day when he was off duty, and he had time to 
look around the town a little. 

"I tell you there are little patches of clover in the 
midst of this cactus plantation we are going 
through," he said, in a letter written about this time. 
"In the day, when I am off duty, I take some hard- 
tack or a few centavos and go up town and exchange 
them for bananas, cocoanut candy, johnny-cake, gin- 
gerbread, or rice-cake which the native boys go 
around the streets selling, the same as our boys sell 
newspapers. Although I 've no doubt the beggars 
cheat the life out of us. The other day I got some 
red bananas. I ate a couple; the third I saved; and 
when I fried my bacon for dinner I sliced the banana 
and fried it. It was great! I gave some to Dr. 
Gross and he wanted some himself, so he is going to 
buy red bananas to-day. 

"In the park here we have some of the most beauti- 



MINISTERING TO THE SICK 



107 



fill roses I ever saw ; roses such as we pay dearly for 
at home even in the rose season. I take the liberty 
now and then as I go through the park of picking a 
few^ for a bouquet and taking it to the hospital for 
some of the sickest boys. It seems to do them good. 
Well, I have been pretty much all night writing this 
letter, and as I go off duty in a few minutes I will 
close for the day." 

On August 28 many of the convalescent patients 
belonging to the Sixth Illinois left the hospital to re- 
turn home with their regiment. On the ist of Sep- 
tember, the hospital was further depleted by sending 
six men to Ponce. And, under date of September 
2, Carl wrote to his brother Jim : — 

"I am having a snap just now. Everybody has 
left the provisional hospital except four well men, 
and all we are waiting for is the ambulance to take 
the stuff here, before we go to join the regiment at 
Utuado. Meanwhile, we are having a cinch living 
on eggs, rice, sardines, fresh meat, soup (bean and 
beef), fresh bread, tea and coffee, and I tell you 
it 's good and no mistake. But we won't get that 
from the regimental hospital when we get there." 

The mail was very irregular in reaching the men 
at Ad juntas, the more so because they were separated 
from their companies. Sometimes they would get 
no mail for three or four weeks at a stretch, and then 
they would receive letters five or six weeks old, per- 
haps. On the evening of September 3 Carl was made 



I08 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

happy by a budget of mail consisting of twelve letters 
and ten packages. The letters from Massachusetts 
were dated all the way from the middle of July to 
about the 20th of August. Several of them were 
from his mother, and more than one from the friend 
whose letters were so great a help to him. But of 
all the letters, the one that caused him most rejoicing 
was one from his brother Allie. Allie was getting 
well and he was at home. 

Three days later the hospital at Ad juntas was de- 
serted and Carl started of¥ to join his regiment at 
Utuado. 



XII 
HIS LIFE FOR OTHERS 

Between Ad juntas and Utuado there was only a 
mountain trail, at this time of the year made ex- 
tremely difficult by the incessant rains which ren- 
dered the unbridged streams well-nigh unfordable, 
and which turned the red clay of the soil into slimy, 
sticky mud. Over this road Carl, with two or three 
companions, journe}ed with an ambulance. But the 
mud was so deep and the streams were so dangerous 
that riding was out of the question. Often they had 
to push the wheels out of the mud and many times 
they were obliged to steady the ambulance with their 
hands as they went over the rough rocks or through 
the deep streams. 

It was eight o'clock in the morning when they left 
Ad juntas. At noon it began to rain, and it rained 
incessantly all the afternoon and evening. A few 
minutes before "taps" at nine o'clock, they pulled in 
to Utuado, wet to the skin, covered from head to foot 
with red, sticky mud, and well-nigh exhausted. 
Dirty and wet as they were, they turned in at once 
for the night and early in the morning reported to 
Major Dow, in charge of the hospital forces at 
Utuado. 



109 



no A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

On his way to report Carl met Colonel Rice, and 
he describes the interview in a letter to his mother 
written September 8 : — 

"When I went to report to ]\Iajor Dow in the 
morning, not having had a chance to wash up, 
Colonel Rice spotted me, called me to the curbstone 
and o-ave me a calling down. When I had explained 
to him that I was just in from Adjuntas and had no 
time to draw new clothing, he excused me, saying he 
thought I was on duty from my being there with my 
equipment at that time in the morning. 

"The Colonel is a fine man, and any soldier who 
has any military pride and self-respect swears by 
him. He is one of those officers who are constantly 
on the move overseeing everything and sparing noth- 
ing to have things in orderly shape." 

Carl wrote this letter in bed, where he had been 
ordered bv Dr. Gross on the morning after his ar- 
rival. The letter, however, contains no hint of this 
fact. In a letter written to his friend on the same 
day he frankly speaks of his condition: — 

"Well, I promised you I would write honestly and 
I shall keep my promise. When I awoke Tuesday 
morning you can not imagine how homesick I was 
when I thought of my class all going back to school 
and I not with them. 

"The march has very nearly exhausted mc. I 
was worked very hard at Adjuntas and I stood it all, 
but it was awful sickening wurk. I had the cold, 



HIS LIFE FOR OTHERS m 

damp hours of the night, i. e., until 8.00 a. m., and 
twice during my watch I had to take care of dying 
men, and through the dampness and cold I have con- 
tracted a severe cold and rheumatism. When I 
came into the hospital Monday morning to ask for 
medicine the Doctor said to me, 'Go into the hos- 
pital, Hart, and take a cot. You 've been sick too 
long, and you stay there until you get well.' Well, 
I did n't like that, but I thought it best. 

"I feel ashamed to be writing this to you who have 
so much to do, but your letters are so comforting. 
The little Testament is a great relief and comfort and 
I read from it every night. I must close now, for 
my head is beginning to swim." 

This was Carl's last letter to the friend and teacher 
whose friendship had been to him so great an inspira- 
tion and help. 

Before Carl took his bed, he had the opportunity to 
greet some of his companions in his company whom 
he had not seen for nearly a month. Lieutenant 
Decker of the company was at that time ill in the 
hospital. Carl hunted him up and without making 
any reference to his own exhaustion and illness he 
cheered him with his bright smile and with a few 
words of hopeful encouragement. Then he himself 
went to bed. 

After that he wrote only two letters, both of them 
short ones to his father. 

In that of September 10 he confesses his illness, 
but makes light of it : — 



112 A SOLDIER IX TWO ARMIES 

"I have some bad ne\v5 to tell yoii this time. The 
day after I came from Ad juntas I went to get some 
medicine for my diarrhcea, and Dr. Gross ordered 
me into the hospital. He says I have been sick quite 
a while. I have got the diarrhoea bad, and I do n't 
think I will get over it until I get out of this miser- 
able country. I have also contracted rheumatism 
which makes it difficult for me to write as it has me 
just now in the (write) right shoulder. I have also 
a cold and a weak back but, my dear papa, do not 
worry. You know that your boys as a rule take 
your advice and I will take the advice in which you 
say, 'Keep up your courage, boys; and if you get 
sick, get well again.' 

"I must close now. \\"\\\ write you very soon. 

Your loving boy, 

Carlie." 

In the last letter home, received by his loved ones 
several days after the telegraphic communication an- 
nouncing his death, he speaks cheerfully of his ill- 
ness and hopefully of the prospect of soon being at 
home : — 

Utuado, Porto Rico, 
September 13. 1898. 
My Dear Papa : — 

You must n't be worried about me in the least. I 
am feeling better at this writing. 

T asked Dr. Gross what was the matter with me 
to-day. He said I had a fever from overwork', but 
if T stay in bed two weeks. I '11 be all right again. He 



HIS LIFE FOR OTHERS 



113 



ordered me whiskey the other day and I had to take 
it because he had no substitute. Perhaps it did n't 
raise fun with me the first time it was taken. 
Honestly, it 's the worst tasting stuff I ever got into 
my mouth and I won't put one drop in more than I 
have to, you can bet. My diarrhoea still bothers me, 
but I have faith that Dr. Gross can cure it in time. 

We are getting our new uniforms here. I have 
my pants and my hat; the rest of the things arrived 
to-day; those I have not yet received. They con- 
sist of a coat, a blue shirt and a pair of leggings. 

When I came over from Ad juntas, I found that 
I weighed 148 pounds — twenty-two pounds less than 
when I enlisted. 

Never mind the furlough. We will be home in- 
side of a month, and I could n't get home on a fur- 
lough much quicker, if you could get one for me. 

Well, do you realize that on the 30th of Septem- 
ber I will be 17 years old? I hope I am home on 
that day. 

B — and C — are well; so are F — and Captain 
Cook. Mrs. Rice, the colonel's wife, comes every 
day to the hospital with egg-nog, but I do n't drink 
it because of the brandy in it. 

Well, I can't think of anything more to write, 
so will close, in good spirits, and I think in improving 
health. 

With love to all, 

Your loving boy, 

Karl. 

Soon after this letter was penned, Carl grew rapid- 
ly worse. Concerning this last illness Dr. Gross 
writes as follows : — 

Chr— 8 



114 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

"It was evident after twenty-four hours' time in 
Utuado that he was unable to continue working, and 
was consequently admitted to the hospital. 

"The illness, typhoid fever, which finally confined 
Carl to his bed and eventually caused his death, was 
the scourge of the troops at that time, and the com- 
plication, dysentery, was its common ally. To the 
best of my knowledge Hart's first trouble was a 
chronic diarrhcea, which seized him while living at 
Adjuntas. At that time, however, he was not sick 
enough to be admitted to the hospital or assigned to 
quarters. His condition seemed to be somewhat im- 
proved when I left him at that town on September 5. 
On his admission to the hospital in Utuado 
typhoid fever was suspected, and after twenty-four 
hours had elapsed little doubt remained as to the 
diagnosis, and very little as to the likely severity of 
the attack. 

"Men were called for from his old company to 
nurse him under the supervision of the surgeon and 
hospital steward, and their hours for watching were 
so divided that one of them was always with him. 
His case, however, was beyond our power to reach, 
and on the 26th of September he died. There was 
little or no evidence of physical suffering, and never 
a word of complaint or dissatisfaction. His mind 
during the most of his illness was in a somewhat 
stupefied state, and at the last he was entirely de- 
lirious. His friends, both from his old company, 



HIS LIFE FOR OTHERS 



115 



and those he had made during his hospital service, 
felt and expressed the deepest regret at his death. 
He was, in fact, only a boy, dying shortly before his 
seventeenth birthday. His life, if spared him, 

would doubtless have been a useful one, and a pride 
to those near him, but to them the great satisfaction 
will be that he was an honest and faithful soldier, 
while he lived, accepting each requirement as it came, 
and that his name is now among those who suffered 
their utmost in the service of the United States. 

"From the day of Carl Hart's being detailed to 
serve as nurse until the day of his death, I never 
had cause to regret my decision in accepting him. 
In the first place, he was not only obedient, which a 
soldier must needs be, but he was always willing. 
He was a careful worker, and, furthermore, a con- 
scientious one. Coming to me without the slight- 
est experience in the work he volunteered to perform, 
he was always anxious to grasp each detail of in- 
struction, and still more anxious to do the work well. 
I think he took a pride, in his quiet way, in making a 
clean report of work thoroughly and carefully 
done." 

One of the men from Company I detailed to watch 
by Carl's bedside was Charles Miner of Concord. 

"My hours with him were from midnight to six 
in the morning," Mr. Miner states. "Most of the 
time he was unconscious, lying in a sort of stupor. 
But sometimes he had lucid moments when he knew 



Il6 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

me. Then he was always grateful for any little 
thing I could do for him. He always thanked me 
particularly for the sponge bath which we had to 
give him every few hours, saying that it felt good. 

"One night after I had bathed him, he took hold 
of my hand and said, 'Charlie, you and the other 
boys have been awfully good to me, and I hope 
sometime you '11 know how I appreciate it.' Then 
he sank into a stupor again." 

Miner himself was taken ill and was not with Carl 
at the end, but, so far as we know, these words of 
gratitude to his comrade were the last lucid words he 
ever uttered. 

On September 26, four days before his seventeenth 
birthday, the tired soldier was called from his faith- 
ful service of his fellow men on earth to eternal rest 
with God in heaven. 



XIII 

YET LIVING 

Carl was buried in the little soldiers' cemetery at 
Utuado on the morning of September o.'j. All the 
regiment formed to do honor to one of its youngest 
soldiers, his own Company I acting as escort. Six 
of Carl's most intimate comrades were his bearers. 
Mr. Dwight L. Rogers, the Young Men's Christian 
Association Secretary then with the regiment, read 
the simple service, and a squad of eight privates from 
Company L fired the last solemn salute over his 
grave. And there, in the quiet cemetery, sur- 
rounded by the flowers he loved so w^ell, they left 
him. 

"I first met Carl on the 'Yale' on our way to San- 
tiago," Mr. Rogers writes, "and was always im- 
pressed with his earnestness and his entire fearless- 
ness in the service of the Master. I remember he 
always wore his Christian Endeavor badge on his 
blue flannel shirt, where it was conspicuous, and 
when he would drop into our rooms he was always 
glad to talk over matters pertaining to his Christian 
life, and to tell of the struggle in which he felt that 
he was gaining strength. He was in my ofiice only 
a day or two before he was taken sick, and com- 

117 



Il8 A SOLDIER IX TWO ARMIES 

plained then of not feeling well. The next I heard 
of him he was in the hospital and was soon very sick 
and unable to recognize his friends, and before many 
days had gone on to his reward. He was one of 
those fellows of whom it can be truly said *He laid 
down his life for his friend,' for I have no doubt 
that he contracted the fever while attending to others 
in the hospital. ... He was one of the young- 
est men in the regiment, a mere boy, in fact, but he 
always impressed me as one of the most advanced in 
living up to what he believed to be true and right." 

Carl's body did not rest long so far away from 
home. \\'hen his regiment was ordered North, 
nearly a month later, his body was brought home to 
Concord. And one Sunday afternoon, late in Octo- 
ber, simple services were held in his own loved 
church, with an address by his pastor. The church 
was crowded with his many friends. The Christian 
Endeavor Society attended in a body. In Septem- 
ber the Society had sent him the following birthday 
greetings, which he had never received : — 

"At the regular Sunday evening prayer-meeting 
of the Christian Endeavor Society held September 
1 8, it was voted that the following greeting be sent 
to our president in Porto Rico : — 

The Endeavor society of which you are president 
sends its most cordial greeting upon the seventeenth 
anniversary of your birth. The esteem in which 
they held you was manifested by a unanimous elec- 
tion to a responsible position early in the year. 



YET LIVING 



119 



Their love for you has shown itself continually dur- 
ing your absence in the service of the best country 
in the world. They know you have served your 
country well. They have no doubt that in your 
duties of ministering to the sick, and other work, 
you have served your Master and Lord faithfully. 
With an earnest wish for your continued welfare, 
and a return as soon as is considered best by those 
administering our nation's affairs, they say to-night, 
"God bless you, and keep you, and cause his face to 
shine upon you." May he shield you from tempta- 
tion and permit you to give many times "a cup of 
cold water in His name." May you yet spend many 
birthdays with us, working for the Master." 

Company I was present at this funeral in Concord, 
and the same six who had acted as bearers in Utuado 
again performed this ofifice of love. Most of his 
schoolmates were there, too, — and all of his friends 
and loved ones at home. 

"There was no cant about his Christianity," said 
his pastor, the Rev. W. W. Campbell, in his simple 
eulogy. "It was as natural to him as any other 
part of his life. It was not something that he put 
on during Sundays; that he wore when he was in 
meeting; that he thought of when he was in the 
company of Christian people; it was a part 
of his life; it was something that was 
as natural to him as anything else in life. 
He loved his football clothes, he thought 
much of the glove with which he played baseball. 
It was just so about his Christian Endeavor pin and 



120 ^ SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 

his Bible, — they were a part of his Hfe, and they were 
a joyful and natural part of his life, a part of him- 
self. He loved the hymns of the Church. He 
knew them to sing them by heart, and he would go 
to places where he could sing them, and where there 
were those that would sing them with him or play 
the tunes upon the piano or organ. He loved the 
music of the church organ, and would go and sit in 
the church and listen to the organist while she re- 
hearsed. He once declared that he had a great de- 
sire to hear the famous operas and the great oratorios 
as they are at times presented in Boston, and if he 
had not sufficient money to pay both admission fee 
and car-fare he was going to walk to Boston that he 
might hear them. 

"The church and the home where first he knew 
and saw God were hallowed places to him. This 
expression was frequently uttered in his prayers, 
'God bless the Union Church.' The church will 
never be quite the same without him, just as the 
home will never be quite the same without him. 
Yet Carl's death has given a new significance to the 
church, A hero's name is on our roll. And just 
as the family tie is strengthened by this sorrow, so 
the ties of the church are strengthened by the loss of 
this young brother. 

"I praise God that in my ministry I have been 
privileged to come in touch with so fine a soul. It 
is worth all the years of study and the annoyances 



YET LIVING 121 

which are incident to the life of a minister to have 
been permitted to know the inner workings of a life 
like this, and to have been associated with it. . . . 

"I do not suppose that Carl knew that he was go- 
ing to die. I presume that if he had known that 
this illness was his last he would have sent us — not 
a message of regret that he must die alone, that he 
must die in a foreign land, that he must die in his 
youth, in his very early manhood — he would not 
have sent us a message of himself, but he would have 
sent us a message of courage for us, to be strong, to 
be courageous, to look out, and on, and up. 

"But let us look the other way for a moment," 
the pastor continued, with a ring of triumph in his 
tones. "A young man said to me the other day 
when he had learned of Carl's death, 'I wish I knew 
all that Carl now knows of eternity.' A man seventy 
years old said, 'All I can wish is to have as much 
said in praise of me by my friends and acquaintances 
as has been spoken of this boy.' We echo his words. 
Is not his life complete ? What are fifty years more 
or less here as some of us live them, so full of sel- 
fishness and greed and strife? Does it not make 
the ordinary life as we sometimes live it seem small 
and mean when compared with such a life as this? 
Do you remember, when our Lord met the sisters of 
Bethany he said to them in their sorrow, 'Thy 
brother shall live again' ? Carl lives again." 

Yes, Carl lives again. It was only the body worn 



122 



A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES 



out in the service of his fellow men that lay beneath 
the flag of his country that day. Carl himself is 
still living and still influencing all who had ever 
known him. 

For a long time after Carl's body had been laid 
away in the beautiful and historic Sleepy Hollow 
cemetery, fresh flowers were left daily on his grave 
by many unknown donors, and when the early snow 
of winter had buried the grave, many footsteps of 
unknown friends trod a path to his last resting- 
place. 

"He helped me more than I could ever have helped 
him," said his friend and teacher. "There are many 
times now when the thought of his life and the re- 
membrance of his shaggy head above my desk, have 
kept me from giving up to doubt and weakness." 

"He translated the ideal into the real," was the 
testimony of one of his comrades. "He was a 
soldier in two armies, and a good soldier in each. 
And he died in the service of both." 

"Carl lived here on the earth," said a young man 
who was inclined to be sceptical. "Now he is 
somewhere else, and where he is there must be God 
and heaven. Nothing now can make me doubt 
that." 

A few months after Carl's funeral, a colored man 
stopped Mr. Hart in the street in Boston. 

"I guess you do n't know mc." the man said. "I 
am B — , and I was No. — in the Reformatory." 



YET LIVING 



123 



"Yes, I remember you," Mr. Hart answered. 
"But I 'm in a hurry this morning. Speak quick. 
What do you want?" 

"I do n't want anything," the man replied. "I 
only wanted to tell you something about Carl. You 
know I was in Company L, and when I had a touch 
of the fever, Carl took care of me. I shall never 
forget his kindness, and I hope it will make me a 
better man." 

And so, though God giveth his beloved sleep, their 
works do always follow them. 



j^,.«.uKa 



JUN 10 190^1 



a 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



013 789 731 3 



